


54 Days or More

by 54DaysorMore



Category: GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Dancer Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jeon Jungkook is a Little Shit, Kim Namjoon | RM & Jackson Wang Are Best Friends, Kim Namjoon | RM Is Bad at Feelings, Kim Seokjin | Jin Is Bad at Feelings, Kim Taehyung | V Is a Sweetheart, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Bad at Feelings, Music Videos - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Park Jimin Is a Sweetheart, Past Rape/Non-con, RUN episodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 55
Words: 239,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/54DaysorMore/pseuds/54DaysorMore
Summary: You win a contest to spend the summer with BTS.  It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, so why are you so nervous?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized words are spoken in Korean  
> Warnings: Some bad words

**Day 1**

            You couldn’t help but smile as the stewardess offered you a hot towel.  What was the point of them?  Were you supposed to wipe your hands with them?  Cover your face in a last attempt to calm yourself down?  You hoped your smile looked polite, but inwardly you were laughing at the extra-ness that is first class.  Not that you were complaining.  Flying first class on international flights was ideal.  You were grateful for the space above all else.  Sitting by strangers for fourteen hours, awkwardly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom as you climb over their legs, trying not to watch anything they might judge you for on the tiny little TV screen—you had done it before, and you were simply relieved to not have to do it on this flight.  After all, you had plenty of other things to worry about.

            Setting aside the towel—seriously, what _were_ you supposed to do with it?—you picked your flashcards back up and ran through them again.  After an hour of flipping them back and forth, you stuck in your headphones and loaded your language app.  Thirty minutes in, however, you stopped, placing your phone and head down.  Your own words so often repeated to your students came flashing into your mind—"If you’re not ready, you’re not.  Cramming won’t help you any!”  Well, you certainly didn’t feel ready, and you would beat yourself up about it the rest of the flight, but there was also nothing you could do about it.  Transferring your headphones to the TV instead, you tried to find a movie to help you relax.

            You kept your eyes on the screen for the next six hours, only glancing at your phone to check the local time or to steal a peak out the window.  Whenever your eyes began to burn, you would close them for a few minutes, but you never allowed yourself to go to sleep.  Even though you were sitting by yourself, you couldn’t allow yourself to be so vulnerable and exposed.  Finally tired after three movies, you switched to reading instead, and soon, three hours later, you had finished your book.  Silently cursing, you put the book back in your bag.  Summer is when you did most of your reading, and you were annoyed you had already finished one of the four books you had brought.  You wondered if you could find more to read during your visit, or if you’d have to resort to using your Kindle.

            Whatever the case, you fumbled through the last couple of hours, losing track of exactly what you did.  When the stewardess announced that all tray tables must be put up and chairs must return to their upright positions, you hurried to put everything away, applied some chapstick, and took out your folder of papers.  You have placed everything in the order you thought you would need them, so you only took out the first two to look at.  The official BigHit Entertainment logo was on top, and a professional header was on the left, formally addressed to you.

            Dear Miss Y/N,

                        We are pleased to announce that you have won a spot in the BTS’ dorms for an exclusive summer experience.  Enclosed is all of the information you will need as well as official legal documents to sign and who to contact with questions.  We look forward to seeing you on June 4th.

            Of course, you had read this letter more than once.  You probably had it memorized.  But each time you read it a little of you felt like pinching yourself.  It really was too good to be true, and you kept waiting for someone to pull out a camera and yell “PYSCHE!”  Steadying your breathing to the best of your ability, you turned to the second one, instructing you on what to do once you got to the airport.  First, get off the plane.  Second, get your bag.  Third, find Lee Mina.  Should would be waiting for you at arrivals with a welcome sign.  It sounded simple enough, but you have traveled enough to know how anxious airports, especially ones you had never been to where there is hardly any English present, made you.  Before you left your seat, you double checked that you hadn’t left anything behind.  Satisfied, you turned Airplane Mode off your phone and texted your phone.

            “Just landed.”

            “Good!  How was the flight?”

            “Long, of course.  But good.  Watched some movies and finished my book.”

            “Sleep any?”

            “No.”

            “☹  I hope you can soon.  It’s 10 there?”

            “Yeah,” you replied and started to exit the plane.  As expected, you immediately felt a little overwhelmed by all of the signs in Korean, but you had memorized a few essentials to get you to bag pick up.  While waiting for your bag, you checked your e-mail out of habit and continued to text your mom until you told her you would talk to her later.

            “Have fun.  Keep me updated,” she said.  You couldn’t help but smile, honestly missing her already.  Soon your bags arrived and you began the awkward dance of trying to navigate two wheeling bags behind you with a backpack on your back.  Your bags weren’t enormous, and you weren’t one to overpack on trips, but you had never been gone for two months before, and you had been worried about not being able to find certain products.  You were sure some people were staring and judging you for having two bags—or maybe they were staring because one stupid wheel was squeaking obnoxiously—but there was nothing to do now but try to find Mina.  Despite being exhausted—you could feel your eyes just watering from stinging so much—the whole trip had gone smoothly, so as your eyes darted around trying to find a sign with your name, you were immensely relieved when you heard someone call out,

            “B?”  You waited until you heard it again before responding, approaching a thin, gorgeous lady.  She was dressed pretty casually, in jeans and a t-shirt with a blazer, but the atmosphere around her immediately intimidated you.  Everything about her seemed perfect.

            “Yes, hi,” you said, letting go of one of your suitcases to extend your hand—panic flooding through your body.  Did they shake hands in Korea?  How had you not looked that up?  You only had a second to freak out, though, as Mina took your hand firmly.  “ _Hello,_ ” you said, and she smiled at you.

            “ _Hello,_ ” she said.  “ _I’m Mina, and this is Choe Jisung._ ”  You smiled at the broad shouldered man dressed in all black behind her.  He also intimidated you, but he gave you a small nod.  “He’ll be your driver.”  You couldn’t help but smile, having no idea what that really meant.  “Do you have everything you need?” Mina indicated toward your bags, and you nodded.  “Great!  Let’s go.”  _Let’s go,_ you thought to yourself, following them.  You were grateful when Jisung reached out to take one of your bags for you.  The squeaky wheel one.  You noticed him glance down at it once before leading you both out of the crowded airport.

            At the car, you tried to help Jisung place your bags in the back, but he waved you off.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you murmured, and you saw him smile.  You realized you probably sounded way too formal, but he looked young, and you were extremely grateful.  And tired.  You could figure out how to thank him properly later.  You stammered another thank you when he opened your door for you, and he smiled again.  Sitting next to Mina, you listened attentively as Jisung pulled out of the parking lot.  You wanted to look out the windows and take in the sights, having never been to Seoul before, but the windows were super tinted, and you really needed to listen to Mina.

            “Now, before we arrive, you need to sign this paperwork.”  She handed you a clipboard with several sheets.  A sticky note arrow was placed on the bottom of several, indicating where to sign.  You accepted these and a pen from her, but your hand lingered in the air when you noticed everything was in Korean.

            “I’m sorry,” you said.

            “Oh, these are the same ones we sent you.”

            “Okay, but,” you said, flipping through them, your father’s warnings running through your head, “could you summarize each page for me just so I know exactly what I’m signing?”

            “Of course!” Mina said, smiling again.  “This one is the Non-Disclosure Agreement.  You can not share any information with any outside parties while you are here.  You may not post any information on any social media site while you are here.  In short, no one can know you’re here.”  There it was.  You had heard it before, and it had honestly sounded a little ominous.  When they had first explained this part of the agreement to you, you had honestly gotten very worried.  Not that you expected BigHit to be kidnapping young women, and not that you had a lot of friends you wanted to tell, and not that anyone cared what you posted on social media, but the whole thing had sounded too fishy in the beginning.

            “Except my parents,” you said now to Mina, reminding her of the agreement you had come to before you arrived.  She nodded, and you signed the paper.

            “But do try to refrain from sending them pictures.”  You smiled, knowing how annoyed that would make your mom, but you knew she would spend hours going over the thousands of pictures you were sure to take when you got home.

            “This is the No Contact Agreement,” Mina said on the next page.  You really didn’t want her to explain this one again, so you signed it quickly, but not before she said with a pursed lip smile, “No romantic relations, in short.”  You could tell she had to, or wanted to, say something else, so you looked up at her.  Even though it was bright out, the windows were so dark the interior of the car was dim.  Her mouth was slightly open, and you took the opportunity to maybe guess at what she was thinking.

            “I get it.  Hugs are acceptable if initiated by the guys.  I’m used to giving appropriate hugs to guys.  Shoulder hugs, side hugs, that kind of thing.  No hand holding unless initiated by the guys.  Hand holding can honestly be really innocent, or really intimate.  So I’ll be careful about that.  No sleeping with the guys,” you said bluntly, and Mina smiled at you, maybe out of embarrassment.  “I’m…” You hesitated again.  What are you?  Too insecure to even imagine anything intimate with any of the guys?  With any guy?  Too scared of getting in trouble and being sent home, as the agreement stipulated?  “That’s not why I’m here,” you managed.  “I’m 100% not worried about any of them falling for me,” you laughed at the absurdity of it, but Mina wasn’t laughing.  This made you uncomfortable, to say the least.  You could really tell something wasn’t being said, but the silence lingered for a few more seconds.  “No physical contact.  No problem,” you muttered.

            “This one is about other conduct.  No cussing if ever being recorded, for instance, no drugs, your dress must be modest, and no drinking if being recorded,” Mina said, moving on to the next page.  You signed this one quickly, as well.  You really had no problems with any of that.  You had initially been a little surprised at the mention of a dress code, but you were pretty conservative and self-conscious, so you never wore shorts or sleeveless tops, anyway.

            “Ah, I did have one question about dress code,” you said.  “Around the house.  Well, at night.”  You almost found yourself glancing at Mina’s chest, but you refrained.  Needless to say, she was much smaller than you.  “I don’t like to sleep in my bra.”

            “Okay,” she said.

            “Okay because it’s in my room?”

            “Right.”

            “And no guys are allowed in my room.”

            “Right.”  Mina was becoming more professional with each answer.

            “But in the rest of the dorm?”

            “Bra on.”

            “Got it,” you said, turning to the next page.

            “That’s the liability one.  No suing us if you get injured, etc.”

            “And no suing me if a boy gets injured, right?”  Your attempt at a joke didn’t really land.  You flipped to the last page.

            “This is your work contract.  It explains you are not receiving a salary, but your room and board, food, and travel expenses are provided for.  In return, you will teach the boys English twice a week for one hour.”

            “Even Namjoon?” you asked as you signed the paper.

            “ _Yes,_ it was his idea.”

            “Oh?” you said, wondering if he had had the idea for the summer or if he had come up with the idea after you had been picked.  “Huh.”

            “Finally, the last page has a list of contacts.  Add me and Jisung immediately.  Consider me your manager.  You must ask me before leaving the dorm and going out in public.  You must ask me if you need anything, even food.  Check with me about schedules.  Any questions you have should come to me first.  Don’t bother the guys.”

            There it was.  The nagging concern at the back of your head was presented in front of you.  You didn’t want to be a bother.  You couldn’t be a bother.

            “Jisung is your driver and bodyguard.  I will arrange your pick ups and drop offs when needed.  I’ll also be your interpreter anytime you’re out of the dorm or doing any official events with the boys.  Don’t rely on Jisung for that.  He doesn’t speak much English, _do you?_ ”

            “ _Yeah, yeah.  We’re here._ ”

            You could tell what he meant even without understanding him.  The car was slowing to a stop.  Your heart, meanwhile, had picked up its pace.  You let yourself out of the car, only to see Jisung standing there with his hand out.  He removed it quickly, and you gave him a nervous laugh.  You followed him to the back of the car to help him with your bags.  He gave you another odd look, but you ignored it.  You weren’t a child.  You could handle your own bags.  Still, you were glad there was an elevator.  Not taking time to look around the lobby, you waved goodbye to Jisung with a quick _thank you_ and followed Mina.  As the floors dinged one after another, the elevator rising quickly to the top, you thought your heart was going to burst out through your mouth.

            “The boys have to leave at 11, so we should just catch them,” Mina said.  Your phone was tucked into your bag, but the car clock had read 10:48.

            The elevator door opened, and Mina stepped out.  Without glancing back, she strut down the hall.  You struggled to catch up, your bags making far too much noise for your comfort.

            Mina was at the door, knocking.  It felt like she was pounding on your chest.

            You thought you heard scuffling and a shout behind the door, but it was probably just the blood rushing to your head.  You frantically swiped at your eye, which had conveniently picked the perfect time to randomly start watering. 

            There was a click and the swing of a door, some sort of greeting exchanged, Mina moved inside, and then there you were, face-to-face with none other than Kim Namjoon himself, the freaking leader of your favorite KPop group ever, BTS.  You’d never really considered yourself a fan girl—you didn’t scream at guys even at concerts—but couldn’t help feel extremely flustered and nervous.  What surprised you was his smile, and, unless you read him completely wrong—and you rarely read people wrong—the nervousness that rested in his face.

            “Hi,” he said, sticking out his hand, “I’m Kim Namjoon.”

            “Hi,” you said, trying not to break your face with your smile, “I’m Y/N.  But you can call me B,” you said, extending your hand to shake his.  It was dryer than you expected, though you quickly checked yourself.  You just spent fourteen hours on a plane; it could be _your_ hand that was dry.  You quickly disengaged at this thought and moved yourself through the doorway as he held the door open wider for you.

            The door led into a kitchen area, and around the island were four other guys you recognized immediately.  Jin was standing tall, one hand on the island and the other in his pocket.  He flashed you a smile.  Yoongi was leaning on the island, his phone in his hand.  He looked up at you and gave a small head nod.  J-Hope stood at the end of the island, closest to you, with a huge grin on his face.  And Jungkook stood on the other end, his phone also in his hand, clearly preoccupied, as he barely even looked up when you entered.  You abandoned your bags to do the polite thing and introduce yourself.  You opted for giving them small bows from where you were instead of approaching them for handshakes, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed with all of them looking at you.

            “ _Hello, everyone.  My name is Y/N, but you can call me B.  It’s nice to meet you,_ ” you said, stumbling over a few syllables and bowing your head low to try to hid the red creeping to your face.  But Namjoon was smiling down at you, and J-Hope was clapping his hands, exchanging looks with the other guys in the room.

            “Oh, nice to meet you,” J-Hope said excitedly, rushing forward to clasp one of your hands in both of his.  You couldn’t help but smile at him.

            “Nice to meet you,” you heard Yoongi chime in, his voice more chipper than his body language.

            “ _Oh, she’s good,_ ” Jin said, and you raised your hands to your face like you did whenever you were embarrassed.

            “ _No, I’m bad at Korean,”_ you said, gaining more surprised sounds from J-Hope and another smile from Namjoon.  Jin began gesticulating and saying something else, but you were distracted by the arrival of Jimin and Tae coming down the hall.  Both wore huge grins on their faces.  Tae was fluffing the back of his hand and Jimin was finishing putting a ring on his finger.

            “ _Told you I wouldn’t be last,_ ” Jungkook said, waving his phone in Namjoon’s face.

            “Hi, hi, hi,” Jimin was saying in your face.  Your face really felt like it was going to explode from smiling so much.  His hands were pressed together in front of his face as he looked at you with the sweetest smile.  “I’m Jimin!  I’m sorry—” he glanced across at Namjoon.

            “You were late?”

            “You were late,” Jimin said confidently, but Namjoon laughed at him, shaking his head.

            “ _No problem,_ ” you said, and you were greeted with a sparkle in Jimin’s eyes.

            “ _Ah!_ ” he said, “ _look at her smile!_ ”  You had no idea what he had said, but you grinned as he placed a hand on his forehead and basically spun away from you.

            “Hi,” you heard, and finally turned your attention to Tae, whose deep voice was greeting you with an extended hand.

            “Hi,” you said, positive you sounded like a barking seal.  His hand engulfed yours, and now you were sure Namjoon’s had been the rough ones, as Tae’s was smooth to your touch.

            “How was your flight?” he said, looking straight into your eyes as he held your hand.

            “Good,” you said, realizing you would have to pull your hand away first, which you did.  “Long,” you said, and several of the boys nodded understandingly.  “Jet lag is the worst.”  More nods.

            “Jet lag,” Yoongi muttered and tsked, shaking his head.

            “Feel free to take a nap while we’re gone,” Namjoon was saying.

            “Ah, _thank you, I don’t…_ I don’t nap.”  You noticed several eyebrows go up at this remark, and you were annoyed with yourself that you didn’t know the word for nap.

            “ _She doesn’t nap,_ ” you heard Mina saying.  You had honestly forgotten she was there, pressed against the wall, busy typing away on her phone.  Several of the guys were exclaiming surprise, all of them standing up now.

            “ _What, what, what?”_ You heard from more than one source.  Yoongi was staring at you in disbelief, and you really felt like you had just insulted all of their mothers.

            “ _I can’t,_ ” you tried to explain.  “It makes me feel sick.  _Sick.  I feel sick._ ”

            “ _You feel sick?_ ” Jimin said, his voice laced with concern and coming closer to you.

            “Ah, _no,_ ” you said, panicking.  You knew communicating would be hard, almost impossible, but this was going to be a nightmare.

            “ _Napping makes her feel sick,_ ” Namjoon said this time, coming to your rescue.  “Right?”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” you said.

            “ _That sucks,_ ” J-Hope said, sounding apologetic.  You pressed your lips and nodded, but smiled around at all of them.  You didn’t want to be a bother.

            “Well, I’m sorry we have to head out so soon, but make yourself at home,” Namjoon was saying again.  “Mina can show you to your room.  Let me know if you need anything.”  You looked up at him—he really was taller than you thought he would be compared to you—and gave him a nod. 

            “ _Thank you._ ”  Your stupid eyes were watering again, and you really didn’t want it to look like you were crying like a pathetic idiot.  There was a flurry of _good byes_ and _see you laters_ and a flurry of men moving past you out the door until only you and Mina remained.  Lifting herself off of the wall, she waved for you to follow her, so you did.  Down the hall and to the left into a small room with a bed, a dresser, and a desk with a chair.  Your heart became full.  They had asked you multiple times what you would need for the summer—a TV?  Do you need a TV?  Are you sure you don’t need a TV?—so you had finally requested a small desk so you could do your work.  It was simple but cute, complete with two drawers.

            “I know it’s a bit small,” Mina said, looking uncomfortable for the first time, “everything in Seoul is…squished.  But you have your own bathroom.”

            “I lived in a loft for six years,” you said, looking around with a smile.  “My bed was in my kitchen, in short.  So this is great.”

            “I’m glad to hear.  Really.  Now, there are eggs, apples, brown rice, bottled water, and chicken as you requested in the kitchen somewhere.  I made sure to label your stuff, and I suggest you always do.  The boys are used to eating anything around.  I honestly don’t know where it got put, though, sorry.”  You nodded.  You had a roommate at home, but you hadn’t lived with boys since you lived with your parents and two older brothers.  But that was over ten years ago.  “Any questions?”  You shook your head.  You were sure you had a million questions, but you were so tired and were grateful that no one was going to be around while you settled in.  “Okay, let me show you the code for the door before I live.  Though, again, you shouldn’t leave unless you let me know so that I can go with you.  Or if you’re with one of the guys.”

            “Ah, I have to say, Mina,” you said as she showed you the door code.  “This will all be a big adjustment for me.  I really like to take walks, for instance.  Do I need to let you know every time I want to go walk around the block?”

            “Yes.”

            “Ah,” you said, disappointed.

            “For safety reasons.  I obviously don’t need to come on the walk with you.  Unless you want me to,” Mina said, smiling again at you before closing the door behind her.  You really weren’t sure what was going on; you were just happy to hear you were free to go on a walk.

 

            The rest of the afternoon you unpacked and explored your room, bathroom, the living room, and kitchen.  You avoided any other rooms, even if the doors were open.  No way were you going to snoop into any of the guy’s rooms.  You had this paranoid feeling that there were hidden cameras everywhere.  You set the goal of staying awake until 8pm, so after unpacking, exploring, and updating your mom, you sighed when you noticed it was only 1pm.  Sometimes you were too efficient, you told yourself.  Even though you were exhausted, you couldn’t not do something, so you decided to spend a few hours working on your computer preparing the lessons you were going to have to give the boys.  You were grateful to see a Wifi name and password on a note on your desk with a little note.  It took you a moment to translate it, finally reading _I’m excited!_   You wondered who had left it.

            By 3pm, your eyes were burning more, and your stomach was growling, so you made your way to the kitchen.  Your body was really messed up, but jet lag never bothered you for more than a day or two, so you weren’t really worried.  Your main goal right now was to avoid getting a headache.  And to not bother anyone.  You thankfully found everything you needed to make a quick rice and chicken dish you made often at home, and you gathered everything neatly on the island in the order that you would need them.  You struggled with the eye a little—you hated gas stoves as you were always afraid they would blow up in your face—but you finally got it going and heating up the oil.  It was when you had first in the first few pieces of chicken when you heard the front door opening, and you froze.  You suddenly felt like a burglar who had broken in only to steal food and was then foolish enough to stay there and eat it.  Your eyes were wide—and burning and watering—as you watched who walked in.  Jimin, Tae, Jungkook, and Jin.  They were all talking amongst themselves but stopped when they had all entered, looking at you.  You honestly believed they had forgotten you were there.

            “ _Are you cooking?_ ” Jin asked, looking at you holding a spatula.  It was seriously the stupidest question you could imagine considering the circumstances, and you laughed loudly.  They all looked at you, a little confused, but smiling.  “ _Ah, what are you cooking?_ What’s that?” Jin said, pointing at eye.

            “ _Smells good,_ ” Jungkook said.

            “ _Chicken,_ ” you said, stirring more.  Jin came and stood beside you, looking at the pan and then at the sauce you had a made in a bowl and lastly at the rice you had made.

            “Brown rice?” he said, a look of disapproval on his face.

            “Ah, I like it better than white rice,” you said, feeling ashamed and very American at that moment. 

            “Better than white?” Jin said, his voice high and a look of hurt on his face.  You really, really hoped he was just exaggerating. You emptied the first batch of chicken on a plate and added more to the pan.  As you concentrated on not burning anything, you noticed Jin grab the plate and take it away.  Wordless, you turned around to watch him place it on the island and pull out chopsticks for the guys.  Soon, he, Jungkook, Jimin, and Tae were all eating the chicken.  Your chicken.

            “Hey,” you said softly, a smile on your face only because you often smiled when you didn’t know how to express how you actually felt.  Currently you were feeling hungry and exhausted but also awkward around these strangers who you had looked at more pictures and videos of than you would like to admit, and felt a tear fall from your eye.  It wasn’t a crying tear, but your eyes from being dried out and from allergies of a new country and from the steam of cooking were watering like crazy.

            “ _It’s delicious,_ ” Jimin was saying, eyes closed and a smile on his face.  Jungkook nodded, stuffing another piece of chicken in his mouth.

            “ _It’s good,_ ” Jin said, but he stopped when he saw the tear on your face.  “ _Shit, what’s wrong?  Ah, oh, guys, stop eating._ ”  They all stopped mid-chew or mid-reach except Tae, who had been watching you the whole time and dared to eat another bite before placing his chopsticks down.  “Sorry, sorry,” Jin said, laughing now.  “ _We’re used to eating together, I forgot._ ”  You really had no idea what he was saying, but he brought the plate back to you and shooed the boys out of the kitchen, leaving you to eat in peace.  Breathing a sigh of relief, you ate until you felt better and then went to the bathroom to splash water into your face.  When you came back, you found Tae at the sink washing your dishes.

            “Ah,” you said, rushing to him and trying to take the towel from him.  “I’ll do that. _Please, stop.  I’ll do it.”_ He lifted his elbow to hold you back and smiled up at you.

            “I got it.  Thank you for the meal.”

            “Ha, that wasn’t a meal.  But you’re welcome.  _Thank you_ ,” you said, pointing at the dishes.  You bit your bottom lip, watching him hum as he finished drying the pan he was holding.  Stepping past you to put it up, he flashed you another smile.  Feeling like you needed to say something, you said, “Your English is getting good.”

            “Ah, no,” he said, almost mirroring you from earlier today, “my English isn’t good.  I’m learning.”

            “And I’m here to help,” you said, smiling up at him.  You really couldn’t tell if he understood you, but he was really standing too close to you for your comfort, so you nodded and excused yourself back to your room.

            The rest of the day you holed up in your room, really too exhausted to be pleasant company.  You tried to become accustomed to the various sounds in the dorm.  Soon you would learn whose steps were whose.  Soon you would be able to tell whose voice was whose that permeated through the walls down the hall to your ears.  Soon you would learn the non-verbal cues of each boy and what each look at you meant.  Soon you would learn how to not be a bother to any of them.  But for now, you washed your face and fell into your new bed a little past 7pm, not making it to your preferred time.  Hugging a pillow tight, you soon drifted off to sleep.

 

            A sharp intake of breath hit your esophagus as your eyes shot open.  Someone was pounding on your door.  Scrambling, you leapt out of bed and rushed to the door, flinging it open.

            “What’s wrong?” you said too loudly.  Namjoon stood there in the dim hallway, and when he glanced down at you once you suddenly remembered where you were.  Feeling dizzy and sick all at once, you stumbled back and sat down on your bed, grabbing a pillow to hold in front of you.

            “Are you okay?” Namjoon said, following you gingerly and squatting in front of you.  You nodded, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

            “I just sat up too fast.  What’s wrong?” 

            “Shit, you were asleep already.  I forgot about jet lag,” he winced and rubbed the back of his neck.

            “What time is it?” you said.

            “Uh, eleven.”  You smiled at that, knowing that was when you normally went to bed.

            “It’s no problem.  _What’s up?_ ”

            “ _What’s up,_ ” he said, correcting you.  You nodded and repeated it correctly.  “I just wanted to check on how you were settling in.  Jin said he, uh, made you cry?”

            “ _What?  No,_ ” you said, confused.  “Oh, the chicken.  It’s no big deal.  I was just hungry and confused when they started eating it.  No worries.  I’d love to cook for everyone sometime.”

            “Are you sure?  Because I can talk to them about it.”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, reaching your hand out and hovering it over his knee.  He glanced at it but returned his eyes to your face, trying to see if you were serious.  “ _Sorry,_ ” you said, though you weren’t sure for what.  “I…it’ll take awhile to adjust.”

            “Okay, but let me know if there’s a problem,” Namjoon said, standing back up and headed to your door.

            “Ah, Namjoon,” you said, and he turned around, his hand on your doorknob.  “There is one thing.  I know I’m older than you all, but I’d rather be addressed as an equal.  The formal language makes me uncomfortable.”

            “Really?” Namjoon said, and with the light from the hallway behind him, you could see a smile on his lips.  “You don’t like being called Noona?”  You were glad you were sitting in the dark, because you were afraid your checks were burning again.

            “Not by you,” you said softly.  “Or the other guys.”  You cleared your throat as he looked at you.

            “Okay, I’ll speak to them.  I’m sure most will comply.  I can’t guarantee Hoseok or Jungkook, but I’ll work on them.”  He turned to go but you stopped him again.

            “Namjoon, _thank you.  Good night._ ”

            “ _Good night,_ ” he said, correcting you again.  It was only after he had shut the door and you had buried yourself under the covers again when your eyes shot open and frantically looked around your room.

            “If there is a camera in here,” you said, “first, ew, that’s not cool.  Second, no boys in my room, I know.”

            Day one and you were already breaking rules.  And you were usually such a good girl.  You pulled your covers over your head and hoped you fell asleep again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys and you adjust to sharing a living space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warning: Some bad words. Panic attack.

**Day 2**

            You never slept well, so you weren’t surprised when, despite your exhaustion, you woke up two more times in the middle of the night, disoriented and sweating.  When 5am rolled around, you rolled out of bed, starting your day with a groan.  You moved slower than you normally did, remembering it was summer and you had plenty of time.  Plus, you had no idea what time the boys would be getting up, and you didn’t want to make too much noise.  Still, by 8am you were getting antsy and hungry, so you peeked out of your door and padded your way to the kitchen.  Not surprisingly, no one was up, and you made yourself some tea as quietly as possible, cooked eggs as quietly as possible, and cleaned your dishes as quietly as possible.  Standing at the island eating, you looked at the papers in your folder.  You had done a lot of research for sites to see when you weren’t needed, which you figured would be most of the time.  As you looked at what you could go see today, you looked up to see Namjoon shuffling into the kitchen.  He gave you a little wave as he put on a pot of coffee.  You returned to your folder, not wanting to bother him.  Your roommate was a coffee drinker, and you knew not to talk unless first spoken to around coffee drinkers.  After a few minutes of silence filled with some cluttering of dishes, he shuffled over to you, pulling two stools with him.

            “You can sit, you know,” he mumbled.  Without responding, you did, unable to stop yourself from looking at his face.  It was really unfair how good he looked so early in the morning.  You smoothed your hands down your pants, feeling suddenly self-conscious.  You had already put on your favorite black jeans and a loose shirt to be comfortable, but you couldn’t compare to this guy with ruffled hair and pajamas.  “What’s that?” he said, pointing at your folder.

            “Papers for the summer.  Schedules and such.”

            “So organized,” he said, his eyebrows rising, impressed.  “Did you sleep ok?”  He was looking at you over his coffee cup when he asked, and you found yourself unable to answer quickly.  It was a simple question with a simple answer: no.  You were sure your eyes could tell him what he needed to know.  But your brain reminded you to not be a bother.  You were here to teach and help, not be a burden.

            “Yeah,” you answered.  “The bed is really comfortable.”  At least that part was true.

            “So Tae and Yoongi didn’t bother you?”

            “Sorry?” you said, utterly confused.

            “Your room is next to theirs.  They can be loud sometimes.”

            “Oh?  No, I didn’t hear anything.”

            “Good, good.  So what are your plans today?” Namjoon said, and you were going to answer him, but someone else was entering the kitchen.  Jungkook rounded the corner, shirtless, and raised a hand to both of you before going straight to the coffee pot.  You were going to answer Namjoon now, but you couldn’t help but notice Jungkook stiffen in front of the coffee pot.  His back straightened and he put the pot down before shuffling back out of the kitchen.  Curious but not wanting to question it, you said to Namjoon,

            “Well, I just want to get my footing.  Explore around the area so I can always get back here if I get lost, that sort of thing.”

            “Smart, smart,” Namjoon said, smiling at you.  You couldn’t help but smile back.  There was something about the way he looked at you.  You didn’t want to read into things, but it was like he really cared about what you were going to say.  He reminded you of a co-worker you had who always asked how you were every day.  Sometimes that question got you chocked up, not comprehending that someone actually cared how you were, and you cursed silently as your stupid eyes started to water.  Thankfully, Jungkook came back in at that moment, this time with a shirt on, and resumed pouring himself a cup of coffee.  With another wave, he left the room.  Once he was gone you couldn’t help but laugh.

            “What was that?” you said.

            “I think he forgot you were here,” Namjoon replied.

            “So he put on a shirt?  He didn’t need to do that.  I have two older brothers, so it’s no big deal.”

            “Really?” Namjoon said.  You knew your family information had been on your application, so you didn’t know if he had forgotten or if he was trying to make sure you told him.  After all, knowing things about someone doesn’t mean you know them.  You really didn’t want to talk about your brothers, though, so you just nodded.

            “I don’t want your routines to change just because I’m here.  I’d rather y’all act like I don’t exist,” you said, your voice trailing off under Namjoon’s stare.  He took another sip of his coffee and placed the cup down, his hand wrapped around it tightly.

            “That would be impossible.  He just has to have a shirt on around you.  Well, we all do.”  He chuckled softly, and suddenly you were upset at yourself.

            “What?  That’s a rule?”

            “Of course.”

            “But why?  I mean, I get me having rules, I’m the outsider, but if you sleep without a shirt on or you’re used to walking around without a shirt, you should just do that.  It’s your house.  You shouldn’t change your life to accommodate a guest.”

            “Ah, but you’re not a guest this summer.  You’re our roommate.  We have rules with or without you.  Maybe it seems odd, but I think our rules are part of what makes us successful.  As individuals and as a group.  They may seem strict, but they keep us focused.  There are just a few different or new ones now you’re here.  It’s not a big deal, B.  We all agreed to this.  It may just take us all time to adjust.  Please be patient with us.”  You really wanted to believe him.  You had no reason not to.  Be patient with them?  You were the bumbling idiot who could barely speak to them.  But a part of you still felt like an intruder and an imposition on the boy’s lives.  You had no idea that they would have to change their routines just because you were there.

            “Really?” you asked hesitantly, not sure if this was a topic you were allowed to discuss.  “Everyone was okay with an awkward, random, strange woman living in their house for two months?  Or did the company tell you to agree to it?”  Namjoon looked up from his cup to you, his brows narrowing.  Knowing you had been too blunt, you bowed your head. “ _Sorry,_ don’t answer that.  That was unprofessional of me.  _Sorry._ ”  Bowing again, you excused yourself to your room.  After brushing your teeth and taking your morning pills, you finished getting ready and started to leave when you remembered Mina.

            “Mina, good morning, sorry for the late notice, but I’d like to walk around today and explore a bit to orient myself.  Would that be alright?”  It felt so weird, asking another adult for permission to walk around, but you wanted to respect the rules.  It wasn’t long before her answer came back.

            “B, what time?”

            “10?” It was 9:15 now.

            “Okay, I’ll send Jisung.”

            “I don’t need a ride, I’ll walk.”

            “I know, but he’ll look out for you.”

            “Okay.  And I will give more notice next time.  I had an early night.”

            “Understood.  I am busy, otherwise I’d come.  Please let me know if you need anything.  Remember no pictures with anyone or posting.”

            “Thank you.”  Feeling it equally weird that you would have a large man following you around to “protect” you who you couldn’t even really talk to, you piddled and planned your route until it was five until ten.  You left your room, being careful to shut the door carefully, and walked quietly down the hall to the kitchen.  Yoongi was there now, drinking his coffee greedily.  You gave him a small wave, and he flashed you a smile, his eyes pressed together.  When you go to the door, you heard a low voice asking you something.

            “ _Pardon?_ ” you said.  Yoongi cleared his throat.

            “Where are you going?”

            “Out.  Around.  Mina knows.  Jisung is going with me.”

            “Ah.  Okay.  See you later.”

            “ _See you later,_ ” you said, closing the door behind you as you exited.  Yoongi’s question had caught you off guard.  You weren’t annoyed by it—sometimes your roommate would ask what you were doing or where you were going, and that always annoyed you—but you didn’t know why he would care what you were doing.

 

            For the rest of the morning you explored around the dorms, Jisung silently following behind you.  You were a very visual person, so you felt confident you wouldn’t get lost around here now and could always find your way home.  To the dorms.  You spotted enough convenient stores in case you ever needed a quick bite and several restaurants you told yourself you’d have to try.  By noon you were hungry, and you ventured to ask Jisung if he was, too.  “ _Hungry?_ ” was one of the first words you learned in Korean, and Jisung quickly nodded his head.  Before you had time to contemplate where you should go, he steered you in the direction of a small shop.  Sitting across from him, you watched and listened as he ordered.  Part of you was a little annoyed, but another part was relieved.  You knew enough basic phrases when it came to ordering food, but you still struggled with reading, and if there weren’t pictures, you were clueless as to what dish was dish.  Soon several plates arrived, and you two ate in silence, Jisung only occasionally pushing something toward you or offering you something to try.  You were grateful there was no seafood involved, and you tried everything.  When you were done, Jisung looked at you, said “Huh,” which only caused you to be extremely anxious, and paid for the meal before letting you lead him out.

            You only lasted a couple more hours before the heat got to you.  Being from Texas, where summers were easily 100F/37C on a daily basis, you were used to being hot, but you still despised it, and walking around in black pants hadn’t been the smartest idea, so you started to head back to the dorms.  Confident you could do it without a map, even though you were several blocks away, you didn’t even tell Jisung where you were headed.  By this point, you were also confident he would follow behind you.  Sure enough, in half an hour the dorms appeared before you, and you laughed out loud, clapping your hands.  Behind you, Jisung smiled at your antics.  He followed you to the door, even stepping in when you entered.  Tae was on the couch in the living room, and as you got yourself a glass of water, you heard Jisung talking to him.

            “ _Why’s she all sweaty?_ ”

“ _We’ve been walking around for like four hours._ ”

            “ _Sheesh, why?_ ”

            “ _She wanted to ‘explore.’  I have to hand it to her, she’s pretty smart.  You don’t have to worry about her getting lost._ ”

            “ _I wasn’t._ ”

            “ _Also, you should’ve seen her eat._ ”

            “ _Why, why?_ ”  This word you knew, but at this point you were frustrated and left the room, considering their conversation to be private.

            “ _She tried everything.  She’s nothing like I thought she would be._ ”  You heard Tae’s laughter and reddened, imaging the worst.  Needing to cool off, you took a cold shower and changed clothes before laying down on your bed, finding yourself still sweating despite wearing shorts and a short sleeve shirt.  You tried to read and watch some TV to relax, but you were really bad at relaxing.  School had only gotten out three days ago, and it was going to take you another week or to to really realize that.  You had been running on empty for the past two months.  April and May were always so busy as the year round down, and you always lapsed in taking care of yourself well during those months.  As you lay on the bed unoccupied, thought after thought of inadequacy and self-hatred bombarded you, and your breath became quick.  Sitting up, you willed yourself to stop.  You would not have a panic attack on your second day in Korea while living in the same house as BTS.  You wouldn’t.

            Someone was knocking at your door, and you welcomed the distracting, going to answer it, not even thinking about the fact that you were in forbidden shorts.  It was Jin, who waved at you.  You couldn’t help but smile at him.

            “ _What’s up?_ ”

            “Do you,” he said, “want to cook?”

            “With you?” you said, and he nodded.  “ _Sure!_ One minute.”  Shutting the door in his face, hoping he understood, you threw on a pair of pants and opened the door again, giving him a thumbs up.  He must have not even noticed your shorts before because his face looked confused, but he headed toward the kitchen anyway.  You stood by as he pulled out ingredients and laid them out on the counters.  Soon you were cutting vegetables and helping mix ingredients.  It became a lesson in English and Korean, too, as you two exchanged the words for various foods.  Most of them you knew, but you were glad to practice and review them with Jin.  There was only one time when you really didn’t understand what he wanted you to do, so you started to pantomime what he might mean.  Suddenly laughing at you, he said in perfect English,

            “Please set the table.”  Staring at him with a pretend-upset face, you were quick to obey as he laughed again.  You loved that sound.  It pierced your very core, and you couldn’t help but smile as well.  Soon the boys gathered and sat around the table, and Jin and you hurried to place each dish before them.  Besides holiday dinners for your family, you had never cooked for so many people at once, and you looked across at Jin when you had both sat down.  For you, there wasn’t a better way to show someone you cared for them than to cook for them.  As the boys all dug in, you closed your eyes and pressed your hands together, saying a quick silent prayer of gratitude for the opportunity to be at the table.  You hoped they knew, even though you had just met them, that you cared for them all.  When you opened your eyes, Jin was smiling at you and saying something.  Cooking was a lot of work, and you wondered how often he went through the trouble by himself.

            “ _B did all the work._ ”

            “ _Good job, thank you, it’s delicious,_ ” you heard all around, and you couldn’t help but smile.

            “Thank Jin,” you said, but no one did, stuffing their faces instead.  You soon let the conversation wash over you, not trying to keep up.  There were really too many words you didn’t know, but you knew in time you could participate more.  For now, you sat next to Namjoon and J-Hope, trying to let everyone’s happiness wash over you.  But some part of you refused to be happy.  It wanted to be stressed.  It wanted to worry.  It wanted you to be weak and not enjoy yourself.  And your damn eyes started watering again.  You could feel Namjoon lean into you, his voice a whisper.

            “Are you okay?”  There it was again.  Someone seemed to actual care about you.  You couldn’t believe it.  You wouldn’t.  You dabbed at your eyes, trying not to smear your makeup too much.

            “My stupid allergies, sorry.  I think I’m tired, my eyes keep burning.”

            “Mmm,” he said, and then, loudly, to the rest of the table, as everyone was politely trying not to look at you, “ _Allergies._ ”  There were head nods of understanding around the table, but suddenly you knew you weren’t going to last long.  The attack from earlier had been delayed, but you could never stop them fully.

            “Excuse me,” you said, trying not to knock anything over as you stood up from the table, “ _sorry_ ,” you said, almost completely losing it when you saw Namjoon and Jin get up.  “I’m going to go for a walk.”  And without waiting, you left the room and left the dorm.

            Namjoon and Jin slowly returned to their seats, and everyone exchanged glances.

            “ _She’s going for a walk,_ ” Namjoon said.

            “ _Is she okay?  She seems,_ ” J-Hope struggled to find the right word, “ _not as happy as I thought she’d be._ ”

            “ _Maybe it’s the jet lag?_ ” Jungkook offered.

            “ _Maybe she got heatstroke,_ ” Tae said, and then explained what had happened earlier to everyone.

            “ _It’s almost dark,_ ” Jimin said, looking out the window worriedly.

            “ _I’ll go,_ ” Yoongi grunted, standing up.  “ _You all can wash the dishes._ ”  There was a slight uproar as Yoongi left, a smirk on his face.

 

            You had made it to the elevator when you remembered you had to text Mina.  With shaking hands, you managed to send, “Going for a walk for a bit.”  Not bothering to wait for a response, you also texted your mom, even though you hoped she was asleep.  “I’m having a panic attack.  I don’t even know why.  I think I’m overwhelmed by the language.  I think I never had my after-work cry, and it’s happening now.”  You had left the building now, and you paused for a minute, your chest heaving, trying to decide which way to go.  You heard the door close behind you, and you turned to see who it was.  Much to your embarrassment, it was Yoongi.  Despite the heat, he was dressed all in black—pants and long sleeves—and had even thrown on a black hat and facemask.  He was holding something out to you; another mask.

            “ _Well, let’s go,_ ” he said, and you followed behind him, putting the mask on and trying to steady your breathing.  Without a word you two walked around the block.  After two or three times—you had honestly zoned out—the tears finally came out.  You apparently didn’t care if Yoongi saw them, or you hated yourself so much that you wanted him to see and call you weak.  You really weren’t sure, and you wouldn’t have been able to explain yourself to him anyway.  The shame and regret you felt at crying in front of Min Yoongi, great producer and rapper of BTS, was overwhelming and made you cry even harder.  Your sight became blurred, and at one point you even tripped over the sidewalk.  Two hands came out to steady you, one on the hand you had thrown forward in case you fell, and the other on your back to help pull you back up.  When you regained your balance, your tears stopped, partially out of shock, as Yoongi’s hand stayed in yours, and partially out of necessity, as you laughed at yourself.

            “You must think I’m crazy,” you said, laughing again.  You didn’t dare look at him, and he didn’t answer, so you hoped he didn’t understand you.  You had stopped at a corner, and you let go of his hand, worried someone would recognize him.  His head glanced down, but he didn’t take your hand again.  “That’s cool,” you said, pointing up.  His head followed your arm and looked.  A neon sign was glowing behind a tree, and at just the right angle it looked like a halo around the branches.

            “It’s not much, but I think that’s really pretty,” you said lamely, dropping your arm.  You stood there for a few seconds until you could tell Yoongi was looking at you, not the lights.  Turning towards him, you met his gaze.  Without a word, you turned to walk home, and he followed a few steps behind you, his hands in his pocket.

 

            That night, you were grateful no one said anything.  You were grateful Yoongi watched you enter your room before he went in his.  You were grateful for the chance to take another shower.  You were grateful that it was only day two.  Surely things could only get better after today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put a shirt on, Jungkook, geez.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You struggle with new rules and take a walk with Yoongi to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 3**

            You’d be lying if you didn’t lie in bed last night wondering why Yoongi had grabbed your hand last night.  It bothered you more than you would ever admit.  You would never admit.  You wouldn’t bring it up, either.  You checked the messages Mina had left you last night again.

            “Going for a walk for a bit.”

            “Where?  With who? … B, I’ll send Jisung… Okay, Yoongi says he’s with you.  No pictures.  Text when you’re home.”  She was worse than your mom, honestly.

            “Home.”

            “Did anything happen?”  Man, she was worse than a jealous boyfriend.

            “No.  Just went for a walk, like I said.”

            “The boys have practice for the concert tomorrow.  You’re expected to come and watch.”

            “What a treat.”

            “Be ready by 1.”

Looking back at the texts, you cringed at “What a treat.”  You had really meant that sarcastically last night, but this morning you were really feeling blessed.  To watch BTS practice for a concert, a concert you would definitely not be able go to, before anyone else did?  ARMY would eat you alive if they knew what you were getting to do.  Seriously, they would hunt you down and probably kill you. 

You knew that you had your first English lesson with the boys planned for tomorrow, so you spent the morning finishing up the lesson before anyone else woke up.  Around ten you left your room, ready to head to the gym for a bit.  While you hated gyms with a passion, it was too hot to do anything outside, and you had been given access to the one in the building which you figured wouldn’t be too busy.  You hoped to sneak out without anyone noticing, but unfortunately Jimin and Tae were both lounging in the living room as you walked by.

            “ _Hey, B, where are you going?_ ” Tae said.

            “ _Are you going to workout?_ ” Jimin said, standing up.  “ _Ah, we should go, Tae._ ”

            “ _What?  No, we have practice later._ ”

            “ _Come on, we don’t want B to go alone,_ ” Jimin said, tugging on Tae.  It looked like they were going to come with you, which is exactly the opposite of what you would like to happen.  You weren’t what someone would call “in-shape,” especially since the past two months had been so busy.  You certainly did need two extremely fit guys watching you struggle in the gym.  But of course you said nothing and waited until they both came back in gym attire.  Puma, unsurprisingly.  Hanging your head a bit, you followed the two downstairs and waited for them to entire the code to the gym door.  Much to your relief, they both scurried away, and you took a few minutes to see what equipment the gym had before settling for a simple run.  With your headphones in and music blaring, you quickly got lost in your own thoughts and just faced forward, not worrying about anything else going on around you.  You knew you probably looked like you were dying—you felt like you were a bit—but you also felt better than you had in awhile and resolved to work out as much as possible this summer.  After a mile, you noticed Jimin standing on the treadmill next to you and you slowed down, taking your earphones out.

            “What are you listening to?” he said, pointing at your phone.  Instinctively, you hide your screen, but then you sighed, showing him.  “ _Fire!_ ”  His smile reassured you.  You wanted to tell him their music energized you like nothing else.  That two years ago you started working out because of their music.  That you couldn’t go a day without listening to at least one of their songs.  That you blasted their music on the way to work to lift you up and on the way home to wind yourself down.  But all you managed was,

            “ _It’s good._ ”  He laughed again and gave you a small wave.  Sighing, you spent a few minutes on the rowing machine and then some free-standing weights, occasionally stealing stares at Tae and Jimin.  A little to your surprise, they both came up to you during one of your sets.

            “Let’s go eat,” Tae said to you.

            “Now?” you said, putting your weights down.  They had miraculously already stopped sweating and looked like they just came out of a shower, while you…

            “Uh, after,” Tae’s eyes looked at the ceiling as he searched for the right words, “we wash up.”

            “Ah, shower,” you said.  “Let’s shower first.”

            “Yeah,” he said, and he and Jimin smiled.

 

            When you got back to the dorm upstairs, Jin was eating lunch.

            “ _You went to workout without me?_ ” he said, smacking Jimin on the arm when he passed him.

            “ _B wanted to go,_ ” he said in his defense.

            “Yes, but I didn’t say you had to come with me.”

            “Shower, shower,” Tae said, a serious look on his face, and pushed you down the hall toward your room.  For a moment you panicked, afraid he had misunderstood you earlier, until you remembered his room was next to yours.  Waving his hands away, you hurried ahead of him, laughing despite yourself, and closed your door quickly.

            You were out of your shower and ready before they were, so you sat and talked with Jin in the kitchen until they joined you.  You felt lighter than you did yesterday, though you were really hungry, and your face reflected it, as you kept laughing at Jin’s laughs.  You laughed at Jimin and Tae in the car laughing at each other, and you laughed when they told you to go in and order food for them while they sat in the car.  You laughed at yourself as you stumbled through ordering, and you laughed when the three of you sat on the floor in their dance studio as you struggled with your chopsticks.  You were, in short, having what you called a “giggle fit,” and you hoped you didn’t look too crazy.  Tae and Jimin didn’t seem to mind, though, and while you couldn’t understand each other that well, you were glad they seemed to be having fun.

            Around one, the other boys started to arrive, and it was only then that you thought to look at your phone.  No one besides your mom really texted you, so you never even had your alerts on.  You realized this summer you might need to do that, as Mina had sent you several texts, each seeming to increase in frustration.  You excused yourself from the circle of boys who were all discussing their schedule to text her back when the door swung open and Mina, followed by Jisung, came in.  Once again you were reminded how intimidated she made you, and you felt like a little kid who was about to get spanked.  Lowering your head and torso, you immediately apologized.

            “I’m so sorry, so sorry.”  You could feel all of the boy’s eyes on you, and your face became heated.  “I was with Tae and Jimin and I just forgot to tell you.  It won’t happen again.”

            “This isn’t a game, Y/N,” Mina said quietly but fiercely.  “I am responsible for your safety, but their reputation matters more, do you understand?”  You straightened up and looked at her.  You understand the threat you posed.  Not as well as they did, of course.  You were a nobody.  They were famous.  They weren’t allowed to date.  It was hard if not impossible for them to have friends due to their schedules, and girl friends—friends who were girls or girlfriends—were also out of the question.  Even being seen with a girl could lead people to get the wrong impression and mar the boys’ image.  You knew this.  You would never really understand it, though, you thought, looking at the boys, because you weren’t them.  This world was completely foreign to you.

            “ _I’m sorry,_ ” you said, bowing toward the boys.  Namjoon stepped forward, shaking his hand at you.

            “ _Jimin, Tae, did you let Mina know B was with you?_ ”

            “ _Ah, no, but we told Sejin,_ ” Tae said, his face looking incredibly sad.

            “ _Mina, Sejin is your supervisor, so if there’s a concern, you can go to him._ I’m sure B won’t do it again.”  Namjoon was looking at you now, and you suddenly felt very small.  You nodded, worried your voice might fail you.  The guilt you felt was suffocating, but you also felt grateful toward Namjoon for sticking up for you.  “ _Great.  Let’s get to work,_ ” he said, turning away, and the rest of the boys followed.

            “Sit and be silent,” Mina said, treating you like a little child.  You nodded and obeyed though, giving Jisung a smile before the two of them left.  You sat against the wall and hugged your knees to your chest. 

It didn’t take long for you to forget getting in trouble and grow giddy.  After all, BTS was literally feet away from you, dancing their hearts in front of you, sweating and panting, shouting encouragements at each other, and running through their choreography over and over again.  You couldn’t resist taking a few pictures and even a video, even though you knew they had to stay on your phone.  After what seemed like an exhausting time period—and you were only watching—the boys took a break, and Jimin and J-Hope slid to the floor beside you.  You gave them a round of applause and thumbs up, which made them both laugh and hide their faces.

            “Good, good?” J-Hope panted.

            “Uh, duh.  Amazing.  _Amazing._ ”

            “ _Amazing,_ ” Jimin said, giggling.  “ _It’s amazing having ARMY here._ ”  Wow, he was incredibly cheesy, but you gave him another thumbs up anyway.  Bowing exaggeratingly, Jimin scurried away, and J-Hope followed.  Soon they were back at it, and you took to giving Jimin a thumbs up any time you made eye contact.  You enjoyed counting how many times you could make him laugh or look away.  After four hours, you were a little surprised at how fast the time had gone.  You hadn’t even gotten bored once or felt the need to check your phone.  As the boys were wrapping up, you did, only to see that one of your friends had actually texted you. 

            “Hey, are you going to be in town this weekend?”

            “No, sorry ☹ are you coming down?”

            “Yeah. Shit, I wanted to see you.  Where are you?”  You hesitated.  Your friend only came to visit during the summers or holiday breaks, as she lived in New York.  She also knew nothing about BTS.  Well, you had mentioned them before, but she wasn’t a fan.  But if you ever mentioned Korea, she would still ask a ton of questions.  You hated lying.  You were really bad at it.  Whatever you said, you would have to stick to it and make it believable.  Even over text she could probably see right through you.

            “Also, why are you up so late?” she said.  Shit.  It was like 3AM where she lived.

            “It’s summer.  My schedule is so whack right now.  What are yooouuuu doing up????”

            “Ah, Y/N, I went out with this guy, hahaha.”  Ah, here it comes, the perfect distraction.

            “Did you have fun?  Are you home safe?”

            “Mmhmm, I wish you were here.”

            “Aw, me too. Go to sleep, silly.”

            “You too!”  You sighed, and sighed again as Mina came through the door.

            “I’m taking you home,” she said.  Complying easily, you followed her out, not even bothering to tell the boys bye.  The car ride was silent, so you spent it on your phone.  When you pulled up at the dorm, you reached for the door, but Mina gently grabbed your arm.

            “Tomorrow at one we’ll have the boys’ first English lesson.  What do you need?”

            “Do you have small white boards and markers?”  She nodded.  “And paper and pencils.”  Another nodded.  “Can I be there at 12:30?”

            “Sure, we’ll pick you up at noon.”

            “Thanks.  Then that’s it.”  You reached for the door again, but her hand, even gentler this time, touched your arm.

            “Y/N, we’re going to film tomorrow.  Can you do your hair and makeup?”  Your mouth must’ve dropped open, or your eyes got bigger, and you certainly didn’t say anything.  Sure, you did your hair and makeup every day, but it was never anything special.  You had grown up with brothers, and you had never really learned anything about hair or makeup, despite your age.  “It’s okay, I’ll help you.  Just wear something nice, but something you can sit on the ground in, and jump around in.”  You couldn’t help but laugh at how nice she was being because you really couldn’t tell if it was just her being professional or if she actually wanted to help.

            “Thanks,” you said before finally getting out of the car.

Once inside, you worked on your nightly routine of reading and studying Korean.  Some of the boys started to come home later in the evening.  You began to feel nervous about tomorrow’s lesson, which annoyed you.  Teaching was the one thing you felt confident doing.  It was the thing that brought you the most joy and made you feel the most at peace.  It was also the thing you were most passionate about, and so it stressed you out more than anything else, and you felt an enormous amount of pressure to do well tomorrow.  You decided on another walk, and you made sure to text Mina before you left.

            “Who’s going with you?” she texted back. 

            “No one?”

            “Take someone or I’ll send Jisung.”  You sighed.  You didn’t want to wait for Jisung to show up, so you left your room and checked out the kitchen and living room.  No one was around.  Beginning to wonder if the stress of bothering one of the boys was worth it, the front door opened, and Yoongi came in, a cup of coffee in his hand.  His face was glued to his phone, and a frown was pressed on his face, but when he almost ran into you he flashed a smile.

            “Hi, sorry,” he said.

            “ _No problem,_ ” you said.  He sat his bag down on the island and looked down at your feet.

            “ _Walk?_ ” he said, and you nodded.  “ _One second._ ”  You watched as he shuffled in his sandals to his room, only to return in his all black attire again.

            “Oh!” you said and rushed back to your room to get the facemask he had given you.  When you came back with it on, he gave you a small smile before putting his own and heading out the door.  “You know,” you started in the elevator, because there is nothing more awkward than silent elevator rides, “you don’t have to come.”  He didn’t respond, and you sent a quick text to Mina before putting your phone away.

            The two of you walked in silence again.  As you could see clearly this time, you stopped more often, especially if there were flowers by the road or a large crowd of people seemed to be heading your way.  The two of you turn away from the street, pretending to look at something.  Sometimes you really would look at something.  You’d point out a crack in a wall, or a spiderweb in a corner, or the way a puddle reflected your half-hidden face.  Most of the time you would chat away, and Yoongi would just look at you.  Maybe any passing would just think you were American tourists.  Whatever wouldn’t get you noticed.  After a while you started to head home, and it wasn’t until you were in the elevator again when you removed your mask to ask him,

            “ _Are you okay?_ ”  His eyebrows rose under the brim of his hat, but he quickly recovered.

            “ _Yeah, thanks._ ”  You knew that look.  You did that look on an almost daily basis.  It was the mask look.  The front.  Unless you were wrong, and you usually weren’t when it came to reading people, Yoongi was not okay, but it’s not like you expected him to tell you about it.  Still, you vowed to try to figure out what was bothering him, without bothering him yourself, so you could help in some way.  You’d never imagine that just letting him go on a walk with you was helping.  Mina had responded “Oh, good,” when you told her Yoongi was walking with you, but you really thought nothing of it.  You could think something of it.  You taught Literature—you could think anything of everything, something from nothing.  But you couldn’t think anything of it.  You wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have their first English lesson, and you worry about Yoongi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 4**

            6am.  It was too early.  But your body had obviously gotten over its jet lag and was back to waking you up naturally at unreasonable hours.  To avoid being noisy and to relieve some stress, you went down to the gym again, thankful to go alone this time.  When you came back up to make breakfast, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, and Jungkook, shirtless again, were in the kitchen, talking quietly and sipping their coffee.  You gave them all a small wave and decided to go shower before eating so your stench wouldn’t offend them.  Jungkook, upon making eye contact with you, turned quickly and hurried down to his room, his bare chest making you laugh again.

            “Y/N,” Namjoon said before you could leave the room, “we all have practice at nine, but we’ll see you at one, right?”

            “Yep, I hope everyone’s ready,” you said seriously, glaring playfully at Yoongi and Jin.  They both looked a little offended and exchanged glances.

            “I’m a good student,” Jin said. 

            “Mmhmm,” you said, leaving them to laugh amongst themselves. 

 

            You spent too much of the rest of the morning trying to find something to wear.  It’s not like you were ugly, but you always said you were not photogenic.  You preferred taking pictures, not being in them.  And being filmed was simply out of the question.  You knew it was going to be a possibility—it had been in the paperwork and on the application, obviously, but that didn’t mean you were at peace about it.  And why were they filming it unless that meant one day they might release it?  Then ARMIES around the world would know what you looked like—how ugly you looked—and then they could easily track you down and insult you forever for daring to be close to their boys!  You sighed and leaned against your bathroom sink, trying to breathe deeply.  Despite the heat, you settled with one of your lighter washes of jeans and a loose fitting striped pink shirt.  Since you only brought four pairs of shoes, today, as always, you went with your white Converse.  You attempted your hair and makeup, but remembered Mina had said she’d help you, so you gathered what supplies you thought you would need, put them in your gray backpack, and went to wait downstairs.  

            At twelve on the dot, Jisung and Mina arrived, and you spent the twenty-minute drive listening to Mina explaining the rules and procedures for today.

            “Mina,” you finally said.  “I’ve been teaching for eight years.  Sure, I’ve never taught English to famous Korean male singers in their twenties, but I know how to behave.  I trust that you’re doing your job well.  Please trust me to do the same.  And while I’m certainly not used to being filmed, I know the first rule is to never turn your back to the audience, or the camera, in this case.  Have some faith,” you said, more to calm yourself than her.  You really didn’t mean to be rude, and thankfully she didn’t seem to take it that way.  Instead, she nodded and became quiet.  When you arrived at the studio, you headed to the dance room.  Finding eight pillows and the supplies you had requested, you unpacked what you needed and spent a few minutes walking around your “classroom.”  You ran over the schedule in your mind.  You played out different scenarios.  You were mostly concerned about not understanding _them_ and not coming off as rude if you needed to correct any of them.  You were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear someone come in behind you.  And he stayed quiet, watching you from against the wall.

            “Flowers,” he heard you mutter to yourself, and soon he was gone.  After a few more minutes, you left the room, too, happy enough with your plan and needing to find Mina.  You found her in a room with most of the boys who were getting makeup put on.  Feeling like you were intruding, you stood at the door until J-Hope noticed you and jumped up from his seat.

            “Y/N!  Sit, sit,” he said, patting the chair.  Smiling at everyone, you sat, and Mina soon came to do your hair first.  You had put it in a simple ponytail, and she put it back in a similar fashion after adding a few products.

            “Wow, your hair is really soft,” she said as her fingers ran through it.  An awkward smile graced your face.  No one had played with your hair in years, and you had forgotten how good it felt.  You cleared your throat and wiggled uncomfortably in your seat when she came around to the front of your face.  “Okay, about your glasses.”

            “I know, they’re not good for on camera, but I do not wear contacts, and I am really blind without them.”

            “How blind?” you heard Namjoon said, and soon your glasses had been whipped off your face.  Disoriented by the sudden blur of everything, you squinted to see Namjoon wearing your glasses.  You couldn’t help but laugh at their small frame on his face.  “Ah, not as bad as me.  _Jungkook, try these,_ ” Namjoon said, passing your glasses to Jungkook.  You saw the youngest lean closer to you and the mirror, causing you to laugh again.

            “ _Wow, you’re pretty blind, B,_ ” he said.

            “He says you’re pretty blind,” Namjoon translated, taking your glasses back and putting them back on your face.  They were soon removed again as Mina worked to finish putting on makeup.

            “My eyes water a lot,” you explained to Mina who seemed to be frowning at your face, “so I usually don’t wear eye makeup.”

            “Hmm,” she said, leaning back against the counter.  “Then that’s the best I can do.”

            “Ouch,” you mumbled but tried not to feel too hurt.  You knew you weren’t really that pretty.  Trying to remember to breathe normally, you left the room and went back to the studio where you were hooked up with a microphone and introduced to the directors for the day.  Mina translated when needed but otherwise stood back.  All of the boys but Tae were in the room, and a few began to ask where he had gone as they lined up their cushions.  Despite your knowledge that you shouldn’t turn your back to the audience, that’s exactly where they placed you.  A camera would be almost behind you, then, to get the faces of all the boys.  Another two were placed to the sides, so sometimes your face might appear. 

            “I’ve never been filmed teaching,” you told Namjoon, who had come to check on you.  “It’s like having my boss watch over my shoulder.”

            “Well, she kind of is,” he said, throwing his head at Mina.  You laughed and then made a “yikes” face, which made him laugh.

            “What’s the plan with you, anyway?  You sort of have an advantage here.”

            “Yes, I am very smart,” Namjoon said, looking off into the distance dramatically.

            “Oh, and so humble,” you said, smacking his arm.  Immediately regretting it, you froze.  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you muttered, but he grinned.

            “It’s okay, I deserved that.  Do you always beat your students?”

            “Aish,” you said, groaning, and Namjoon laughed again.  “Hey, do you think we could move the pillows into a semi-circle instead of a line?”

            “Hmm?  Sure, I’ll ask.”  As he went to do that, you seated yourself on your pillow, really starting to feel nervous.  Soon the boys had rearranged their pillows and were sitting before you.  Out of nowhere Tae had appeared, apologizing with a grin on his face, and finally, at 1:15, you were allowed to start.

            “Okay everyone,” you began, willing yourself not to look at any cameras but only at the seven faces seated in front of you.  Thankfully most of them were smiling. Jungkook looked nervous, honestly, and Yoongi, you noticed for the first time, did not look pleased.  You did your best to ignore that.  You were certainly used to looking out at unhappy faces.  Most people didn’t like learning from you even if you were fun or interesting.  Some people just don’t want to learn.  “Let’s begin.  While we are here, I will not speak any Korean.  Not that that would really help us anyway,” you said, making a derpy face, and thankfully a few of the boys smiled, “as immersion learning really is the best way to learn a language.  I know it can be a little scary and overwhelming, as you probably don’t understand most of what I’m saying”—you paused, trying not to smile at the nods directed toward you, the classic “yep, I have no idea what you’re saying, but I’m listening” nod; you had witnessed it even in your classes at home—“if you work hard and have a positive attitude, you’re going to be able to learn a lot.  Alright?”  At the sound of a question, most of them nodded.  “Alright.  Today we’re going to start out easy and play the alphabet game.  I will start with the letter A and say a word that starts with that letter.  Namjoon will go next, and then it will go around in a circle.  The goal is to be accurate but also fast.  If you are wrong or take too long, you’re out.  Does that make sense?”

            “Okay, okay,” you heard J-Hope say as he bounced forward on his pillow.

            “Okay, okay,” Jimin echoed, also bouncing up and down.  You were really afraid they didn’t understand what you had said, but you figured you could try and help them until they got the hang of it.

            “Okay, A, apple,” you said, then pointed to Namjoon.

            “B, boy,” he said.  Jungkook was sitting next to him, and you said “C.”

            “C…cool,” he answered coolly.  You nodded and pointed at Tae next to him, “D.”

            “Dog,” he beamed.  Jin was next, so you said “E.”

            “Eggplant,” he almost yelled, and you smiled, pointing at Yoongi next.

            “F,” you said, and you saw a twinkle in his eye.  “Not that.”  His face fell, and a few of the boys looked confused.

            “Face,” he said.  Jimin next to him said “God,” and J-Hope said “Hope,” extremely ecstatic that his turn had come on H.  For “I” you said igloo, which elicited several cocked eyebrows, but you continued around the room and then let them play again without you so you could just observe.  You made sure to make notes of any words someone didn’t know or any letter they struggled with.  “X” and “Z,” naturally, always stumped them, but even you had to admit there weren’t a lot of words that started with “X” or “Z,” so you let them skip those letters.  They all seemed to be having fun, much to your relief, and you were going to move on to the next section when Tae got up and walked away.

            “Excuse me, Tae,” you said, turning on your pillow, “you need to ask permission before leaving.”  But he soon emerged again from behind the staff carrying two vases, each filled to the brim with colorful, fresh flowers.  He placed one on each side of you, beaming proudly, before returning to his seat. 

            “ _No fair, no fair,_ ” Jimin said.

            “ _Suck-up,_ ” Yoongi muttered.

            “ _Teacher’s pet, teacher’s pet,_ ” J-Hope said, rising from his pillow and pointing at the flowers.

            “Okay, okay,” you said, trying not to smile too much, “sit down.  Let’s move on.”  You allowed yourself a smile at Tae and a quick nod, but then you focused.  “Everyone take a whiteboard and a marker,” you said, passing them around.  “We’re going to practice listening and spelling.”  Someone groaned.  “I hear you.  I am actually terrible at spelling, even in English.  But what you’re worst at is what you should practice the most.”  You stopped for a second and then looked at no one in particular.  “That was a really dumb statement.  Okay,” you said, laughing at yourself.  Only Namjoon smiled back, so you tried to regain your composure.  You really hoped this was never posted online.  Maybe they could blur your face or just cut you out completely somehow.  “So I will say a word, you will spell it.  Got it?”  More nods and mummers of agreement.  “You first word is apple.”

           “Apple, apple,” J-Hope said excitedly.  The boys scribbled furiously.  When you pantomimed for them to turn their boards, they all did, and most of them had it written correctly, except Jimin, who had drawn an apple.

           “Ah, Jimin, write, not draw,” you said gently.  Looking around at the other boards, Jimin realized his mistake, and fell back on his back, rolling around and laughing.  Now that they knew what they were doing, you continued.  Only a few words stumped some of them, and again you took note of those.  You had purposefully made today easy to see where they were in their comprehension.  A pre-test of sorts.  After several minutes, you stopped the activity and had Jungkook collect the boards and markers.  Finally, you took out the seven journals you had brought with you.  They weren’t extremely fancy, but they had a nice, simple, leather, or faux leather, cover and each were a different color.  You really did not know who liked what color but had picked regardless and written them each a short note in the front page under his name.  As they each exchanged them until they found their own, enjoying observing them.  Soon they each had their own journal—Namjoon’s was a dark blue, Jungkook’s was red, Tae’s was yellow, Jin’s was a light blue, Yoongi’s was black, Jimin’s was purple, and J-Hope’s was green.

           “Each of you has his own journal now, and I’m going to give you a little homework.”  Someone groaned audibly, and you turned a steely glare at Jin.  “Do you have something to say, Jin?”  The seriousness in your voice caused him to swallow.  Everyone looked like he was on the verge of laughing, but when they saw your face their laughter died, and they glared at Jin.  Yoongi, sitting next to him, hit his knee.

           “ _Apologize._ ”

           “English, Yoongi?” you said, your glare turning to him.

           “Uh,” he stuttered.  “Apology?”

           “Apologize,” you corrected, and he nodded at Jin, like that’s what he had said to begin with.

           “I’m sorry,” Jin said loudly, and you really couldn’t tell if he meant it, but you continued anyway.

           “In each notebook you’ll find a short message from me.  Your homework between now and when we meet again will be to translate it into Korean.  No asking Namjoon,” you added quickly, and several boys frowned.  “Okay, that’s enough for today.  Thank you, and I’ll see you next time!”  There was a round of applause, which made you bow from where you were sitting, and then a lot of commotion at once.  Someone came and took your mic from you, and you turned to look at the flowers Tae had brought.  You waved him over when you noticed him watching you, and he came with a huge smile on his face.

           “Thank you, _thank you,_ but how did you know?” you said, but he only shrugged and smiled at you.  You thanked him again before packing up your supplies.  With a sigh of relief you headed to the car with Mina.

           “You did well,” she said once you were inside.

           “Thank you.”

           “Really.  You didn’t seem nervous in front of the cameras.”

           “Ha.  Cool.  Thanks.”  Your heart felt full from all of the compliments.  You really weren’t used to being thanked for doing your job, and you really weren’t sure how to handle it.  You spent most of the rest of the day in your room, only coming out to eat.

 

            That night as you completed your routine and got ready to take a walk, you anxiously stood outside of Yoongi’s door, not wanting to bother him for another night when an unknown number texted you.

            “Walk tonight?”

            “Who is this?” you responded.

            “Ah, Namjoon.”

            “Oh, hi.  Sure, where are you?”

            “In my room, ha, I didn’t know where you were.”

            “Come and see,” you said.  Soon you saw his door open down the hall and he waved at you.  Rolling your eyes at him, you waved back.  Soon he stood next to you in the kitchen.

            “Ready?” he said, and you nodded.  In the elevator, always one to fill awkward silence, you texted Mina the plan while you asked Namjoon,

            “This is probably a dumb question, but how did you get my number?”

            “It was on your application.”

            “Right,” you said, glad that the night air that hit you was cooler than the night before.  “I’m not supposed to have your number, you know?”

            “What?  Really?” Namjoon said, sticking his hands in his pockets as you started walking.  “I don’t remember that rule.”

            “Ah, Mina explained it to me.”

            “Well, you should save my number.  It’d be annoying to tell you every time ‘It’s Namjoon’ every time I want to text or call you.”

            “Right,” you said, immediately obeying by adding his number to your contacts.  You smiled as you did so, as he made it sound like he was going to text you often.  Which would be silly, as you were living down the hall from him.  “Hey, I hate to ask, so please do feel free to say no,” you began, and you felt him looking down at you, “but could you help me with my Korean?  I really want to learn a lot while I’m here.  I’m just…nervous about pronouncing something wrong.”

            “Of course,” Namjoon said, and you could tell he was smiling.

            “You’re really great,” you said, and then stared at your feet.  You really, really didn’t want to be that kind of girl.  You knew you didn’t know Namjoon, but you knew about him.  And even after only three days, you could already tell what kind of person he was, or at least how he was around you, and you were extremely grateful for his nonjudgmental acceptance.  You said a silent prayer of gratitude when he didn’t respond.

            The walk had a different feel than your walks with Yoongi had, but it wasn’t a bad difference.  When you neared the dorm you couldn’t help but ask,

            “Is Yoongi okay?”

            “Yoongi?  Yeah?  You’d have to ask him,” Namjoon said as you got in the elevator.

            “He just looked upset during the lesson early,” you said, knowing you were pushing it.

            “You’d have to ask him,” Namjoon said again.

            “Right, okay.  Sorry,” you sighed as you reached the dorm’s door.  Namjoon punched in the code and opened the door for you.  As you got a glass of water before returning to your room, he swayed back and forth a few times, his hands stuck in his pockets.  Finally, he said,

            “He’s working at his studio tonight.  He asked me to make sure you had a partner for your walk.”  You were glad your back was turned to him, as your stupid eyes started to grow watery again.  Not trusting your voice, you nodded and then managed,

            “Thanks, Namjoon.  _Good night._ ”

            “ _Night._ ”  He watched you go down to your door before taking out his phone to text his managers an update on how you were doing.  A few concerns still lingered, but overall you were doing better than they could have expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long conversation* with Namjoon, you join the boys for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 5**

            Despite how well you felt like yesterday went, you had a restless night tossing and turning.  At 3am you got up to go to the bathroom and then paddle to the kitchen for more water.  You took a pillow with you, clinging to it as you slinked down the hall.  As the light from the fridge shone into the room, you heard someone mumble behind you.  Suppressing a scream, you turned around quickly, gripping your pillow even tighter.  Someone was sitting on the couch, and when he turned his phone on, the screen lit up his face.

            “Yoongi,” you said, walking over to him.  You stood in front of him, trying to observe his face for any signs of trouble, but it really was too dark.

            “ _Why are you up?_ Um, why not sleeping?” he said, rubbing his eyes.

            “ _Water,_ ” you mumbled.  “You?”

            “Good walk?” he said instead.

            “Mmhmm.”  A silence fell between you two, something you were growing used to.  “ _Are you okay_?” you ventured to ask, even though you could guess what he would say.

            “ _Yeah._ ”  His phone screen went dark and you stood there for another minute.

            “Okay,” you said, turning away.  You could’ve sworn you heard him let out a breath.  Returning to the fridge, you filled up two glasses and brought one back to Yoongi.  His arm reached out limply, and he said nothing, even when you sat on the couch several feet from him and took a few sips of your water.  He said nothing when you grabbed one of the couch’s pillows and laid down.

            “Sometimes when I’m feeling sad I just wish someone would sit with me.  But if you want me to go away, just tell me,” you said.  But he said nothing, so you closed your eyes and fell asleep to Yoongi breathing beside you.

            When you woke at the ungodly hour of six three hours later, you were glad for once, as you immediately got up.  Eyeing Yoongi, who had moved to the other couch, to make sure he was asleep, you slipped back to your room and worked on waking up before going to workout.  When you walked back through the living room a few minutes later, you pondered waking Yoongi up, but decided against it.

            An hour later, when you came back, he was gone.

 

            You had no plans for the day, and as the boys had music practice today for their concert most of the day, you decided to see if Mina would let you go hiking.

            “Hiking in this heat?” she asked you.

            “I know, it’s awful, but it’s honestly like a fall day here compared to Texas.”

            “That sounds horrible.”

            “It is.”

            “Okay, I’ll send Jisung.”

            “What, you don’t want to go?”

            “No thanks, you don’t need me for that.”

            “But how will I read the signs?”

            She didn’t respond.  You loved hiking, but you really didn’t get many chances to do it because of where you lived and because of your schedule and budget.  You wanted to hike as many of the famous mountains as possible while you were here, and today your goal was Bukhansan.  Making sure to pack your inhaler, water, and a snack, you headed out at ten with Jisung.  He let you sit up front today; no, you really gave him no chance to stop you as you hopped in.  Once you arrived, he was characteristically quiet, which you really didn’t mind at all, as you needed all of your breath for breathing.  You really were out of shape, but it was the altitude more than anything else.  Mountains simply weren’t a thing where you lived, and no amount of stairs could have prepared you for climbing a mountain.  But you also loved the excitement of getting nearer to the top, and pulling your hat down further over your eyes, you pressed on.  You had set a goal, and once you had a set a goal, you were almost always sure to achieve it.  The music blasting in your ears kept you going, too, and a few hours later you reached the top.  Extremely proud of yourself, you felt yourself melt a bit as you sat down and took off your backpack to drink your water.  You heard Jisung sit beside you with a huff.  You suddenly felt sorry for him.  Here he was, having to climb a mountain in the summer even if he didn’t want to.

            “Uh,” you said, pulling out the food you had brought, “want some?”  He nodded and eagerly took whatever you offered.  The two of you munched in silence and then you took a bunch of pictures and videos from the top before you started heading down.  As you started, you saw a young man carrying who was probably his girlfriend on his back down the path.  You smiled at that, and then you felt Jisung tugging at your backpack.  You stopped and turned around, staying out of the way of people passing you.

            “ _What?_ ” you asked, hoping that wasn’t the rude way of saying it.  He pointed to his back.

            “ _Want a ride_?”

            “ _What?  No,_ no way,” you said, and continued to walk down the path.  Jisung smiled and followed behind you.

            When you got back to the car, it was later than you had expected, and you promised yourself you would walk the other mountains faster.  You would also need to bring more food next time, as your stomach was growling.  What with being hungry and with your legs wobbling, your eyes began to drift, and you struggled to keep your head upright.  You resorted to chewing gum and messing with the radio until your stomach became uncontrollable.

            “Ugh, Jisung, can we stop at the store?”  His eyebrows raised, but he didn’t respond.  Pulling out your phone, you quickly texted Mina.  “Mina, can you ask Jisung to take me by the store?  I need to buy food.”

            “Sure.  But don’t let him text and drive.”

            “Jisung, pull over,” you said, pointing to your phone and the side of the street.  It took him a moment to get what you meant, but finally he did.  When you pointed from your phone to him, he pulled out his and read the text from Mina.

            “Ah,” he said, and put his phone away.  You sighed in relief, and your stomach growl in anticipation. 

            At the store you tried not to buy everything right then and there, especially not anything that seemed to have sugar in it.  You really hadn’t planned today well, you realized, and your blood sugar was so messed up you could feel a headache coming on.  Grabbing some meat and vegetables, you and Jisung made your way to the cashier, he using the company card to pay.

            “ _Let’s go, let’s go_ ,” you said as you ran back to the car.  You heard him chuckle behind you and he drove quickly, but safety, back to the dorm.  When you pulled up, you opened the door to hop out, only to realize that he wasn’t getting out.  “Come on,” you said, waving him out.  But he shook his head and smiled at you.  “Ah.  Okay.  _Thank you.  See you later,_ ” you said, giving him another wave before shutting the door.

 

            The boys still weren’t home, so you cooked and ate quickly and cleaned up before going to shower.  Once done, you fell into your bed, feeling yourself crash, but your phone buzzed, and you stirred, looking down at it.

            “We’re going out tonight, want to come?” Namjoon.

            “Out?”

            “For dinner.”

            “Where?  When?”

            “Seven, Sum Dem’s.”

            “That’s when and where, but okay. Can I get a ride home after?”

            “Of course.  And a ride there?”

            “Nah, I’ll walk.”

            “Walk?  It’ll take you an hour.”  Sure enough, when you checked the map, it would take you about an hour to walk, but you really didn’t want to bother Jisung again.

            “I like walking.  I’ll leave soon.”

            “Didn’t you hike all day today?”

            “Yep, my legs are jelly!”

            “><…Be careful…”  Suddenly awake, you started to change but then picked up your phone again.

            “Wait, is this place nice or casual?”  While waiting you put on some light makeup until he texted back,

            “Casual.  We’re all gross from practice.”

            “I doubt it,” you texted before putting on a black shirt and red pants.  You hair still wasn’t dry from your shower, and you knew it would soon be a mess, but there was nothing you could do it about now.  You were texting Mina the plan when Namjoon sent you a picture.  Opening it, it was a selfie of him and Jimin, both with tired eyes and pouty lips.  Dear lord.  They looked anything but gross, and you kept looking at the picture as you left the door, went down the elevator, and stepped out, trying to decide what to text.

            “Ew.  Disgusting,” you went with, and then switched to your map app to find the restaurant.  You realized, you knew, you couldn’t deny, that you might be flirting with Kim Namjoon.  You also realized, and hoped, and wanted to believe, that you were just bantering casually like friends would.  But your heart sure was beating too fast.  As you walked, Namjoon texted again.

            “I warned you.  We’re also ravenous.  You’ve been warned.”

            “1. That’s a lot of warnings, Namjoon. 2. Ravenous is a big word. 3. Why should I be concerned that you are ravenous?”  It was a few minutes before your phone buzzed again.

            “1. Oh, a numbering system.  Two warnings is not a lot, trust me.  2. Thank you, my vocabulary is extensive and elaborate, you will find. 3.  We can be bit emotional when hungry.  Wouldn’t want to scare you off.”  You smiled like an idiot.  You resorted to numbering things when texting your friends a lot, as you helped you keep track of what was being said, but usually they didn’t do it back.

            “1. How many warnings is a lot, then??? 2. Wow. 3. You say to the girl who cried when some strange man ate her chicken on her first day in a foreign country.”  You paused at an intersection to make sure you were still going the right way before you continued.

            “1. Oh, you’ll know when it’s a lot. 2. Rude. 3. Wait, I thought you told me you didn’t cry?  Do I need to speak to Jin?”  You smiled, but even over text you could tell the mood was shifting.  You wanted to be carefree only.  You wanted to smile and laugh all the time.  You wanted to never bring anyone else down.  But that didn’t seem to be who you were.

            “1. That’s ominous.  I’m not good at picking up on things sometimes, so you’ll need to be more frank with me. 2. Sorry.  Please send another big word. 3. No, no.  I’m hungry, too, so I’m not making much sense.”

            “1. Who’s frank? 2. Incomprehensible. 3. Are you almost there?”

            “1. Haha. 2. Eh. 3. No, like two more miles.”

            “1. Sorry. It’s not always easy to say what you mean. How do you know when someone wants you to be forward? 2. honorificabilitudinitatibus. 3. Please have Jisung pick you up.”

            “1. Please don’t apologize to me unless you’ve done something wrong.  Sorry should be saved for when you really mean it.  And that’s a good question.  I think you don’t. Unless they tell you. Or you know them well enough to tell. Do you know anyone who always wants you to be forward with them? 2. I think you made that up. 3. I’m fine.”  It was a few minutes before Namjoon texted back, but you didn’t mind.  You loved texting people, as it always allowed you to think before you spoke, but you also were cautious, as sometimes you would easily say things over text that you would be too uncomfortable to say to the person in person.  This conversation was just proof of that.

            “1. I’ve heard you apologize a lot, though?  You just told me you want me to be forward? 2. I did not. Look it up. 3. Okay, be safe.”  You stopped at another intersection and took a deep breath.  This was getting a little personal, and while you weren’t opposed to answering him, you really didn’t know Namjoon that well.  Or at all.  A part of you was afraid of him judging you and thus the whole rest of the summer becoming awkward.  On the other hand, if you didn’t answer him honestly, it could also become awkward.

            “1. Do as I say, not as I do, ha.  It’s a bad habit of mine, so it’s easy to point it out in others. I know I’m bad at it. And hold on, let me explain… 2. I believe you, just teasing. 3. Maybe I shouldn’t text and walk then?”

            “1. Does that happen a lot as a teacher? And ok. 2. This number is now dead, ok? 3. Oh, good plan, stop it.”

            “1. I prefer when people are forward with me, yes. Obviously not if they’re going to be mean, but I’d rather them be mean than fake.  I think motive is what matters.  What are they telling me, and why, you know?” You sent the text and thought for another minute before typing more.  “1. Yes. It’s one of the hard parts of being a teacher. I have flaws, and when I see them in my students, I want to point them out to help them be better than me. I fear they’ll see me as hypocritical, though. 2. Ok. 3. You first.”  Looking back at your map app, you noticed you were still a mile out, and you sighed, finally admitting this had been a bad plan.  But it was too late now, so you continued down the street.  A few streets later, your phone buzzed again.

            “1. Motive matters.  I like that. That fear makes sense. That sounds hard.  Sometimes I feel that as a leader. 3. I’m not walking, I’m in a car.”

            “1. Feel what exactly? 3. Way to rub it in.”

            “1. That pointing something wrong out in someone will only backfire.  I’m not good at dancing, so now way will I tell someone they’re dancing wrong.  But at the same time, sometimes it’s my responsibility to. 3. Hey, I offered.”  Another text from Namjoon was another picture, this time of him, Jin, and Tae in a car.

            “1. You are not bad at dancing. Please never say that to me again.”

            “I’m sub par.”

            “You’ve never seen me dance, so, really, hush.”

            “Now I’m curious,” Namjoon texted, and you suddenly felt like turning around and walking all the way back to the dorm to cool off, despite the fact that you were sweating after walking for so long.  Noticing you were getting closer, you slowed down in an attempt to cool down, though you knew it was pretty futile.  “We’re here,” came a text from Namjoon, followed by another picture, this time of him and Jungkook holding chopsticks with eager looks on their faces.  In another five minutes you spotted the place, and you took a few deep breaths before entering.  “Where are you?” came another text.

            “Here,” you said, and as you stood inside, not sure what to tell the greeter, you saw J-Hope poke around a corner and wave you over.  Bowing to the lady, you hurried over.  The boys all greeted you boisterously, and you went to sit in the empty seat between Jungkook and Namjoon.  Yoongi was already cooking the meat, and you gratefully accepted a glass of water someone poured you.

            “I can’t believe you walked here,” Namjoon muttered down at you.

            “Hehe,” you said, “I’m all sweaty.  I would say sorry, but I haven’t actually done anything wrong per say.  It’s just gross,” you whispered, and he smiled.

            “ _How was your day?_ ” you asked the table, and Jimin and Tae both started to answer at once.  Someone then asked you, and you mentioned your hike and pulled out your phone to show the pictures.  You handed it to Jungkook first, as he sat next to you, and he swiped silently through a few.

            “Wow,” he finally said, “ _these are good._ ”

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said, beaming.  You had always loved taking pictures.  The boys passed your phone around to see the mountain view, and each had some praise to give.  Finally, Yoongi shooed all of your phones away as the meat was done, and you all began to help yourselves.  You closed your eyes and clasped your hands together to say a silent prayer, mostly of gratitude for safety, and then you began eating, too.

            After dinner, you were even more tired than before, and you could feel your eyelids threatening to shut as you climbed into the car and sat next to J-Hope in the backseat.

            “Ah, J-Hope, I’m sorry,” you said, feeling like you should warn him, “I might fall asleep.”

            “That’s okay!” he said cheerfully, but you forced yourself to stay awake, even clenching your first together and pressing them into your thighs.  Your head lurched forward and shot back up as you still almost nodded off.  “Hey,” J-Hope was saying, his voice gentle, “don’t.”  His hand reached for yours and pried it off your leg and unfurled it.  Then he patted his shoulder, but you shook your head.  He stared down at you and then scrunched up his face and patted his shoulder again.  Sighing, you closed your eyes and leaned against him, trying to tilt your head back so it wouldn’t fall forward again.  You must have dozed off, because you woke up with a start to an empty car besides J-Hope.

            “Aish, sorry,” you said, bolting upright and removing your seatbelt.  You felt dizzy and sick and audibly groaned as you rubbed your temple.

            “ _Are you okay?_ ” J-Hope said, unfastening his seat belt and leaning toward you.  You nodded and fumbled to get out of the car.  Following you, he stood close by, worried you might be about to fall over or something, and watched as you leaned against the elevator wall, your head leaned back and your eyes closed.  Once inside the dorm, he fetched you a glass of water and made you drink it before refilling it.  Smiling, you thanked him and shuffled slowly to your room.  You don’t even remember brushing your teeth before you sunk into bed and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *After flirting with Namjoon, more like it (~˘▾˘)~  
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another English lesson, sightseeing, and Tae finds out you have a good singing voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

Day 6

            Routines are what often kept you sane, so you were relived to be falling into a pattern already.  Exercising every morning became a norm before anyone else was up.  Today seemed like it would go just like two days ago, then, as they left early for practice and promised to see you later.  Opting for your black pants, a maroon top, and tan boots, you did some work before heading to the studio with Mina and Jisung.  You and Mina both carried the vases of flowers Tae had gotten last time, as you wanted a bit of color in the sparse room again.  When you arrived, Mina helped you with your makeup again and left your hair in a messy bun.

            “Try these,” she said, handing you a pair of earrings.  You took them but only looked at their sparkle before handing them back.

            “My ears aren’t pierced.”

            “What?” she said in shock, leaning forward to feel your earlobes.  You shuddered slightly at the feeling.

            “Like me,” J-Hope said from behind you, coming up and wiggling his whole earlobes next to you with a silly grin on his face.

            “Why not?” Mina asked, and you shrugged.

            “I just never did.  Never wanted to.  It seems too late, now.  I don’t really wear much jewelry.”

            “I noticed,” Mina mumbled, rummaging through a tray of bracelets and rings.

            “I mean, Jimin wears more jewelry than I do,” you said, pointing at the blonde haired boy three seats down.  He leaned forward upon hearing his name and said,

            “ _What?  What about me?_ ”

            “ _She likes your rings,_ ” Namjoon said, not looking up from his phone from where he stood behind you.  You looked at him in the mirror, not sure exactly what he said about you, but soon Jimin had come over and was handing you one of his rings.  Pressing it on to each of your fingers until he found where it would fit, you couldn’t help but smile.  His fingers sure were small, but they were a little rounder than yours, so the ring only managed to fit on your thumb.  Mina had turned around with a variety of other rings now, but you waved her away.

            “One’s enough, thanks, I like things kept simple.”  Jimin had put the ring on your left thumb and now held your hand up, looking at the bracelet that you always wore.  It was nothing special; pewter with trees imprinted all around it and a quote inscription inside.  Jimin ran his hand over it, making it shift on your wrist.

            “This is pretty,” he said, smiling.  J-Hope and Namjoon looked over your shoulder at it and both nodded.  Feeling suddenly shy, you pulled your hand away and stood up.

            Why did it matter what you wore or what you looked like or what jewelry you had?  It really didn’t.  You knew the truth was that it didn’t matter, but you had never been around a millionaire before, much less had to teach one, and your H&M shirt and $20 jewelry was feeling pretty inadequate at the moment.  You sometimes wondered if the boys remembered what it was like to not be able to wear whatever they want or afford expensive rings they could easily lose and care nothing about.

            You pulled at a few stray hairs while looking in the mirror, feeling the stares of the boys left in the room on you.  Knowing that, you gave your earlobes a pull and winked.  As you left the room, you were pretty positive someone cleared his throat.

            “ _Simple is pretty,_ ” you heard J-Hope say, and you fiddled with your bracelet. 

 

            Today you all started on time right at one, as Tae wasn’t trying to surprise you with flowers.  You were so appreciative of everyone’s timeliness.  Sitting on your pillow again with the boys in a semi-circle in front of you, you noticed they all had their journals with them except Jin and Yoongi.

            “Namjoon, I hate to be an imposition,” you said as you got started, “but I might need your help translating some today.”

            “ _Okay,_ ” he said, smiling at you.

            “Okay everyone.  I hope you had a chance to read the notes in your journals.  At least those who brought them.”  At this, you stared at Jin and Yoongi.

            “Okay, so, I forgot,” Jin said, his hands raised in defense.

            “I didn’t go home yesterday,” Yoongi said.

            “And you couldn’t ask anyone to bring it for you?” you directed your question at Yoongi, who looked at Namjoon for a split second until he translated.

            “Ah, no, no, it’s in a secret place,” he said, his hands also waving in front of him as if he was trying to doggy paddle his way through his own bullshit.  Tae was leaning forward on his pillow so he could see Yoongi and said,

            “It’s on your bed.”

            “ _No, no_ ,” Yoongi said, but the damage was done, and everyone was laughing at his lame excuse.

            “Well, your homework until next time is to write in that journal.  Keep a journal. You can write about anything, but it has to be in English.”

            “Diary?” Jimin said, lifting his up.

            “Yeah, journal.  In fact, let’s start today so I can make sure you’re all doing it right,” you said, passing Namjoon pens to pass around.  “Write what you can about what you’ve done today, or what you’ll do later.  When you’re done, come show me.”  As you weren’t allowed to be on camera, you had to make them come to you, and over the next fifteen minutes the boys talked and joked amongst themselves while they wrote.  One by one they crawled over to you for you to check their journal.  You had expected Namjoon to be done first, but instead he was taking his time.  At one point he looked up, pen in the air.

            “Do we have to read these out loud?”

            “Not unless you want to,” you said, and he went back to writing.  As you checked the other boys’ sentences, you corrected them as best you could and praised them excessively.  It was easy for you to remember how hard they were working to do well, as you were continuing to struggle with learning Korean.  A few times you did find your thoughts thinking how cute the boys’ writing was, like a child’s, but you shoved that thought aside, as, once again, you probably sounded like a baby, an idiot baby, when you spoke Korean.  Finally, only Namjoon had yet to show you his journal, and you wanted to move on before the other boys became bored.

            “Namjoon, can you show me what you have so far?”

            “Ah,” he said, sounding disappointed, “I’m not done yet,” but he crawled over to you anyway.  He was wearing dark rimmed glasses today with a simple button-up shirt, and you almost laughed at scholarly he looked.  Instead you looked at the page he had written.  His handwriting was beautiful, slightly slanted, each letter neat, and you only glanced over the page to see your name on it more than once.

            “Great job,” you said, handing it back to him, but he didn’t take it back just yet.

            “You read that fast.”

            “I’ll read it later,” you almost whispered, extremely aware that everyone else was watching and listening, or at least one person was, and one person was all it would take.

            For the rest of the session you tried to play a rhyming game with them, which didn’t go so well.  So, sometimes able to improvise, you had them write on their whiteboards.  You would give them a list of words that rhymed with each other.  You made sure to go over, with Namjoon’s help, what they each meant and how to pronounce them before you tried the game again with the words you had gone over.  In a way, it became more about memorization than anything else, and Tae, J-Hope, and Jin did surprisingly well.  Yoongi and Namjoon did, too, but you weren’t really surprised by that.

            A tiredness came over you as you wrapped up the lesson, reminding them to journal every day, and there was another round of applause when you ended.  The boys quickly headed out, and you started to pick up the pillows before a staff member took over, thanking you.  When you went back to collect your own things, you noticed Namjoon’s journal and decided to give it back to him later.  He had wanted you to read it, after all.  Sticking it in your bag, you approached Mina and Jisung.

            “I want to go to some art museums today.”

            “Sounds good,” Mina said.  “We’ll both go with you.”  You smiled, though you were a little disappointed.  You felt like you always had to be talking or paying attention with Mina around, unlike Jisung, but you knew not to complain. 

            The afternoon was peaceful and inspiring.  The Seoul Museum of Art was interesting, but the Daelim Museum blew you away.  You could feel your mouth agape as you walked slowly from room to room, your senses overloaded.  You probably took a thousand pictures.  You had never wanted to be labeled “aesthetic,” as you felt that word was overused, but you knew what was beautiful, and you appreciated art in all its forms.  Every room and display in the Daelim Museum really was a work of art, and you began to be overwhelmed after a few hours, disappointed because you knew you wouldn’t be able to retain everything you were seeing.  The crowds were also starting to get to you, so you finally asked for Mina and Jisung to take you home.  She gave you an odd look at first, and it made you realize you had called the dorm home after only a few days.  She thankfully didn’t correct you, though, and the car ride was quiet on the way back.  As you sat deep in thought, you suddenly remembered Namjoon’s journal, and you pulled it out, really hoping Mina wouldn’t ask any questions.  Turning gently to the first page, you once again noted his seemingly perfect handwriting you read every word this time.

            Today?  Today I woke up later than I wanted to and rubbed my eyes a little harder than normal.  I drank two cups of coffee instead of eating and thought of how a drink after work sounds nice.  I listened to my brothers singing and did my best to preserve my own voice.  My words were gentle and direct when anyone got out of line.  At one point I apologized when I misunderstood a direction, but I took it back.  I think this surprised everyone, but I explained why I had done it.  Right now I am supposed to be writing, but I find myself watching Y/N helping my brothers.  Her patience is really amazing, as these guys must be testing her.  I noticed her smile was strained when she reprimanded Jin and Yoongi.  I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t want her to think I was disrespecting her.  _Y/N is pretty great._

            He had written the last in Korean, his handwriting much sloppier in his native language, but you got the message.  Closing the journal, you almost held it to your chest and sighed, but that would look super weird, so you just put it back in your book.  It was innocent enough, and you felt nothing but gratitude.  You extended your gratitude to Mina and Jisung as they dropped you off.

 

            Your nightly routine was also continuing well.  Yoongi wasn’t around, so you didn’t bother anyone for a walk, having worn yourself out at the museums.  But you worked on your Korean and stuck in your headphones to listen to music as you did your own journaling for the evening.  You thought it would be fair to force yourself to write some in Korean, so you struggled through translating some words.  Soon, however, it felt too constricted, and you found yourself singing along softly to the music.  You really thought you were being quiet, so your heart leapt when someone knocked on your door.  Ripping off your headphones, you leapt to answer, swinging the door open to see Tae standing there, a serious look on his face.

            “ _Sorry,_ was I being loud?” you asked, while he simultaneously asked you,

            “You are singing?”

            “Ah, I was, sorry.”

            “ _No, no,_ sounds good,” he said, letting himself in and leaning over your computer to see what you were listening to.  He took your headphones out and played the song again, sitting in your chair and spinning a little as the song played.  You just stood there awkwardly, your hands in your pockets, watching him take over your space a little.  “I like it,” he said when the song was over.  “Now, this,” he said, standing up and bringing his phone over to you.  You took it cautiously from him and sat on the edge of your bed, leaning forward on your knees while you listened.

            “ _It’s good,_ ” you said when it was over, handing his phone back.  He smiled and took another spin in your chair.  Noticing your flashcards, he picked them up and started showing them to you.  Going along with it, you did your best to keep up, allowing him to correct you and correcting him as he repeated the English.  He didn’t last very long, though, as he put them down after a few minutes and took another spin.  Your phone had lighted up on the desk, and you reached past Tae to pick it up.  It was Namjoon.

            “Do you have my journal?  I seemed to have lost it.”

            “Yes.”  You weren’t sure why you were so short.  You were reading into things that weren’t there, which was making you anxious and desirous for everyone to be more forward while being as vague and as distant as possible at the same time. 

            “Ah, Tae,” you said, thinking that he might like to see the art you saw today.  His eyes wandered from your ceiling to your face, and you hurried to pull up the pictures.  “I saw all of this amazing art today.  _Art._ ”  His whole face lit up at the word as he took your phone and started to swipe through the pictures, occasionally making a comment or lingering on one.  As he had taken your phone, he transferred himself to sit beside you on your bed, and you looked on with him, feeling like the afternoon was days ago.  You also felt like your legs were way too close to each other, as the pressure on the mattress made you fall into him a bit too much.  You distracted yourself by pointing at a picture or telling Tae about it.  As you both sat there enjoying your pictures, you heard someone coming down the hall, and soon Namjoon stood in the doorway.

            “Ah,” you said, jumping up to open your bag and hand him his journal.  “Thank you for the compliment.  You should really eat breakfast.  I’m glad you didn’t apologize.  And I’m really not that patient.  Just scared of upsetting someone,” you hurried.

            “Ah,” Namjoon started, but Tae had hopped off your bed, and grabbing both of your shoulders from behind, gave you a little shake.

            “ _Namjoon, B sings really well, you should hear her.  Her voice has a great range._ ”

            “Oh, really?” Namjoon said, looking down at you.  You didn’t know what was going on, but Tae’s fingers on your shoulders were making you tense up immensely.

            “ _Ah, Y/N, you’re super tense,_ ” Tae said, feeling your shoulders harden, and he even began to press his thumb into your muscles, but you wiggled out of his grasp and reached for your door.

            “ _Good night,_ ” you said too loudly, and the boys, exchanging glances, both gave you a small wave before leaving.  Sighing as the door swung shut, you pulled out your hair from your bun and went to get a shower.  You felt your shoulders relax as the warm water rained over them.  Tae was right.  You were really tense.  You should really do something about that.

            Tae could help with that.  And he would.  You liked routines, and Tae soon became a part of your nightly routines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Namjoon invites you out for drinks with Jackson (from GOT7).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, minor drinking, mention of masturbation.

**Day 7**

            Before you knew it, a week had already gone by.  On day seven, you rolled around in bed, texting your mom an update of your week and smiling.  You could already tell today was going to be a weird day.  You felt hyper and giddy, and even though your legs still hurt from your hike a few days ago, you figured today would be a good day for another hike.  Feeling uncharacteristically positive, you got dressed in exercise clothes, made yourself some tea, and worked diligently on your lesson plans for the new school year until you heard people stirring in the kitchen.  You texted Mina about your idea and she said Jisung would pick you up at ten—no, she still did not want to go hiking.

            Closing your computer, you went in search of Jin and was lucky enough to find him in the kitchen drinking coffee with Jungkook, who had a shirt on this morning.

            “ _Good morning,_ ” you said cheerily, and beneath the boys’ ruffled hair there was a small spark of life.  “Jin, do you know Jisung?”  The oldest boy nodded.  “What does he like to eat?”

            “Same as us, _I guess._ ”

            “ _Meat, meat,_ ” you mumbled, heading for the fridge.  “Ramen, ramen,” you muttered, closing the fridge and opening the cabinets.  You honestly had no idea what you were looking for, but you felt stupid coming in without a plan and couldn’t abandon your pointless search in front of Jin.  You really weren’t used to going shopping for yourself or to asking someone else to get groceries for you, so you realized you were wholly unprepared for prepping any food.  Jin sighed, but it didn’t sound like a frustrated sigh—in fact, he was probably smiling at you—and put his cup down.  He started to pull things out of the fridge and cabinet and place them on the island before you.  Soon he was describing an entire recipe to you, which you of course understood only the ingredients to, but you were confident you could make something edible.  Jin and Jungkook soon left you to it, and by the time ten rolled around you had eaten almost half of what you had prepped but dutifully wrapped up the rest.  Looking at the dishes in the sink, you wondered how mad the boys would be if you left them for later.  Willing to experiment, you ran to your room to grab your backpack and write a quick note to leave by the sink, “Promise I’ll do later, sorry! -B,” before heading down to join Jisung.

 

            The sky was perfect today, and you stopped every few feet up this ridiculous mountain to catch your breath and snap a few photos.  Jisung was as compliant and silent as ever, and the hike as a whole was uneventful.  When you reached the top, you took out the food you had brought and offered some to Jisung, who gratefully accepted.  He had brought some of his own this time and also let you have some of his.  His, you had to admit, was better.  Back home you cooked just fine, but it was going to take you awhile to adjust to everything here, even though you normally used a lot of Korean ingredients.  You didn’t want to be one of “those” girls who was obsessed with Asian culture, but a year or so ago you had realized your body did better on Asian dishes instead of breads and pastas.  As you ate, you looked at the pictures you had taken and took a few more from where you rested.  Jisung got your attention and motioned that he wanted to see them, so you handed your phone over.  He had betrayed you, though, and was soon taking a picture of you.

            “Hey!  _Stop,_ ” you said, but he didn’t.  Thinking how to get your phone back from a literal bodyguard, you decided not to fight, and went back to eating.  You could tell Mina on him later.  You figured ignoring him would make him give up, but instead you moved around behind you and then to your other side, squatting down and taking more pictures.  Finally you had had enough.

            “Jisung, _stop,_ ” you said firmly, putting your hand out for your phone.  Smiling wickedly at you, he handed it back.  You noticed, to your annoyance, that you had gotten a text since your phone had been stolen and opened it to see Namjoon’s name.

            “Shit day.  Go out tonight?”

            “Shit day?  It’s barely noon ☹”  You looked out over the city, trying to take in the sight that no camera could ever capture and felt your heart hurting for Namjoon.  You immediately felt silly and confused.  You had always been sympathetic and overly compassionate to other people, but part of you felt like you weren’t allowed to feel that way about Namjoon.  Packing up your things, you motioned for Jisung, who was taking pictures with his own phone of a perched bird—gosh, he looked like a giant kid, this guy—to follow you down.  Being careful not to trip or bump into anyone, you carried on your conversation with Namjoon for a few minutes.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing, just feel like a drink.”

            “Hey,” you said.

            “Hey.”

            “Do you do that a lot?”

            “What? Drink?”

            “No.  Say something’s wrong and then not say what it is?”  You walked along in silence for a few minutes, your nerves rising after this text.  You probably shouldn’t have asked it, but you were feeling adventurous today, not really caring about consequences.

            “It depends on the person, I guess.”

            “That’s cool, but only I matter at the moment.”

            “Wow, humble.”

            “Are you going to tell me something’s wrong and then not tell me what it is, is what I mean.”

            “I’ll tell you over a drink.”

            “Okay, send me the details, I’m climbing down a mountain.”

            “Don’t text and walk,” Namjoon said, but you ignored him, scrolling through the pictures you had taken to pick one to send.  You paused on one candid picture Jisung had taken over you.  Your head was titled down, your cap shading your eyes a bit, a green mountain range the background, blurred images of people walking behind you, a bead of sweat shining on your neck, and your lower lip being barely bitten by your top.  You almost stumbled.  You almost didn’t recognize yourself.  You almost looked pretty.  Before you knew it, you had sent it to Namjoon and picked up your pace to distract yourself.  Within a few seconds he had replied, sending you the details about drinks.  And a few minutes later another text came, probably because the picture had finally sent.  It too was a picture.  He had taken it while sitting, clearly, his long legs stretched out in front of him.  A music stand stood by his feet, and his left hand rested on his left thigh, giving a thumbs up.  You stomach flipped as you slipped and almost lost your footing.  You decided to put your phone away for now.

 

            Your groan only intensified as you pulled harder on your hair tie, making it wrap one more time around your hair, when your favorite person texted you back.

            “No,” Mina said.

            “Why not?” You seriously felt like you were in high school again, asking your mom if you could hang out with a friend.  Only this time is it was trying to tell Mina you were going to drink with Namjoon, only to get shot down.

            “A myriad of reasons why not.”

            “Oh, big word,” you said sarcastically to yourself, and then sent Namjoon a text.

            “Mina says I can’t go out tonight ☹”  If you were good at taking selfies, you’d send a pouty one, you felt so annoyed, but you felt the emoji would do justice.

            “What?  I’ll speak to her,” Namjoon replied almost immediately, and you continued to get ready.  You picked your favorite black pants and your favorite pink sweater, as you wanted to be super comfortable but feel cute.  You were feeling light after your hike; probably from the heat and not enough food, but it was making you more carefree than you had felt in a while.

            “All good,” Namjoon sent now.  “See you soon.”  You went as far as to apply lip balm before giving yourself a nod of encouragement in the mirror and going to lounge in the living room until Jisung came to get you. 

            Jimin was already doing the same, one of his legs strewn over the back of the couch, the other dangling over the edge, his top tapping against the floor.  Boy, was he flexible.  To his view, you were upside down when you came in the room, and he gave you a smile and a wave.  Doing the same, you sat on the couch opposite him and played on your phone until you remembered two things from your room.  Hurrying to get them and come back, you hovered over Jimin’s head, dangling his ring in his site.

            “Ah, thank you!” he said.

            “ _No, thank you,_ ” you said, placing it gently on the top of his nose.  He laughed at its cool touch, causing it to fall off, and you scurried away, stuffing the black mask into your pocket.

 

            There was always something nerve-wracking about going to a new place, especially if you weren’t quite sure what to expect.  That’s what you felt like when Jisung dropped you off so you could have drinks with Namjoon that night.  You also felt a strong sense of pressure when it came to drinking, too.  Honestly, you didn’t like it much.  But you found yourself to be a social drinker—if someone else was, you would too, even if you hated it.  That’s why you tried to hang out with people who didn’t like to drink.  But it was a new country, and you loved new experiences, and it was Kim Namjoon who had invited you out, you know, that guy from BTS.  Entering the small establishment, you soon saw him waving to you from a booth.  He stood up and let you take his seat and then set opposite you, his back to the door.  He had a hat and dark rimmed glasses on in an attempt to hide his face a bit, but anyone who had seen him before was bound to recognize him.  It started to sink in why Mina wouldn’t want you drinking with him.  You suddenly felt very small, and very stupid.  But the place didn’t look too well known, and the patrons at the bar all looked middle-aged, probably not an ARMY among them.  Namjoon had already gotten drinks and pushed a glass your way.

            “Hey, so, I should’ve told you sooner, but Jackson is going to swing by.”

            “Jackson?” you said, almost gagging on your drink in surprise or from the strong taste.  “From GOT7?”

            “Yeah, you know him?” Namjoon said, his face wincing.

            “He’s hilarious.  Or, at least on camera he is.”

            “Yeah, yeah, he’s been bugging me forever to hang out, and while I’d love to keep him as far away from you as possible, I also knew you wanted to meet him.”

            “How did you know that?” you said, almost choking again on this drink you hadn’t even taken a full sip of yet, trying to ignore why Namjoon would want to keep Jackson away from you.

            “Is was in your application.”

            “It was?”

            “Yeah, you mentioned him by name.”  Namjoon was smiling now, a coy smile that almost annoyed you.  “And Woozi from Seventeen?”

            “Oh, yeah, do you know him?”

            “No.”

            “Oh.  Rats.  Well, Jackson will have to do for now,” you said, pretending to pout.  “Are you going to tell me about your day before all hell breaks loose?”

            “Ah, I was overreacting.”

            “Namjoon, there are no cameras around.  I get you not wanting to tell me because we really don’t know each other, and I know anyone could say this, but I’m a really good listener.  And I’m good at keeping secrets.  If you need to vent, go for it,” you said, leaning back in the booth and taking another sip.  Each one was going down a bit easier.

            “Venting does no good.”

            “I think it depends.  If you’re mad at someone, then venting to me won’t help.  Telling me the situation and asking for advice might.  Or it’s none of my business.  If you were upset at yourself, venting might help, because it’s just how you are feeling.  And I could help you sort through those feelings and remind you of the truths.”

            “Wow,” Namjoon said, taking a drink, “are you always like this?”

            “Like what?”

            “So serious?”  This is the part about human interaction that you hated.  You really couldn’t tell what he meant by that.  Was he annoyed that you were being serious?  Was he touched?  Reflecting?  Pushing you away?  Wanting to know so he would know how to respond?  There really were too many options, and your brain was trying to figure out how to answer while consequently thinking about how he would respond to your response.  Apparently your face answered for you, because Namjoon leaned across the table.

            “You’re really wise, I mean.  And helpful.”

            “Ah,” you said, taking another sip, “yes, I’ve always been wiser than my years.”  You hadn’t meant to sound so serious, as you felt the mood shift, but it was the truth.  You had always considered yourself wise, and your mom and other adults had always agreed.  Of course your peers had called you a party pooper, a goody-two-shoes, and a prude, but why should a kid listen to another kid?  Sure, your maturity had always made you an outsider; you didn’t party much in college—worried about the consequences—for instance.  Somedays you wished you weren’t so wise, as it often kept you just worried about making some wrong decision.  Almost as a way to prove you weren’t all that wise, you downed the rest of your drink and slammed your drink down too loudly for Namjoon to refill.

            “Was your day that bad?”

            “Not at all,” you said, blinking your eyes too many times, trying to stop them from burning so much.  A giggle suddenly erupted from your mouth, and Namjoon’s look was almost concerned.  To explain your seeming craziness, you pointed inconspicuously at the door.  Bleached almost white, Jackson’s hair stuck out from under a white baseball cap whose color matched his ripped jeans, and his annoyingly sharp jawline was twitching back and forth as his mouth was moving in some incomprehensible manner.  Namjoon turned to follow your finger to spot his friend, and, sending him a small wave, stood up to greet him.

            “Namjoon,” Jackson squealed under his breath, his bright blue shirt colliding with Namjoon as he picked him up in a big bear hug.  “ _Why have you been avoiding me_?” he said, stepping back and giving Namjoon a playful smack on his arm.  Namjoon’s head dropped a bit, and while he was smiling, it seemed strained.

            “ _Busy as always, you know_.”

            “ _Damn straight.  I have this stupid MCing to do tomorrow and I’m listening to the songs from the artist’s I’m introducing.  They’re real shit, ya know?”_

 _“Ah,”_ Namjoon said, turning back around and returning to his seat.  Jackson followed him into the booth and only stopped momentarily, his butt hovering above the seat, making you notice that his v-neck shirt was way too low, when he eyed you.

            “ _I thought this wasn’t work related?_ ”

            “Huh?  Oh, she’s a friend,” Namjoon said, making you wondering what Jackson had said.  You stuck your arm out across the table way too forcefully and way too close to his chest.  His right hand came up like a T-Rex arm to awkwardly shake your hand.  His grip was firm, and you felt your jaw lock a bit before you smiled.

            “My name’s Y/N.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            “Ooh, an American,” Jackson smiled, letting go of your hand and eyeing Namjoon.  “How do you know each other?”  Namjoon explained the competition you had won to Jackson as he poured himself a drink.  You felt very small again, partially because there were now four large legs under the small booth, and there really was no escaping from them.  You were also reminded you were here because of dumb luck and couldn’t help but think how you didn’t deserve it.

            “Is it like a reality show, then?” Jackson asked when Namjoon was done, and you noticed Namjoon look at his drink instead of you when he answered.

            “Something like that, yeah.”

            “Are they being nice to you, Y/N?” Jackson said, turning all of his attention on you.  “Because if not, you’re always welcome at our dorm.  Oh, do you even know who I am?”  You laughed, feeling yourself blush.  No, maybe that was the alcohol.

            “Yeah, Jackson from GOT7.”

            “Oh, so you do listen to our music,” Jackson said, smiling and taking a drink.  You decided not to contradict him, afraid of hurting his feelings.

            “Hey, want me to take a picture before things get crazy?” you said to the two boys, and they both nodded and handed over their phones.  For a split second you got flustered, realizing whose phones you were holding, wondering what kind of secrets they held, but then your composure was recovered—except your checks were still burning—as you snapped a few pictures of the pair.  They really did look like polar opposites.  Jackson with his white hair and blue shirt and Namjoon with his grayish hair and pale-yellow shirt; one bold, one muted. 

            “Do you want one?” Jackson asked when you handed their phones back, but you shook your head, really feeling like an outsider.  “Or I could send one to you,” he continued, holding his phone out in front of him.  Namjoon almost rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile at Jackson.

            “Does that work on most girls?”

            “What?” Jackson said innocently.  Namjoon waved his friend’s phone away, but Jackson was relentless.  “A friend of Namjoon’s is a friend of mine, right?”

            “I don’t know,” you said, more serious than you intended, “I don’t use that word lightly.”

            “I don’t either,” Jackson said, crossing his arms across his chest.  “But you seem like someone I’d like to get to know.”

            “Oh, really?” you said, leaning into the table and resting your chin in your hand.  “Why’s that?”  You noticed Namjoon take another drink.

            “You are a fan of this guy, right?” Jackson said, throwing a thumb at Namjoon.  You looked across at the leader of BTS, his eyes downcast in—was it embarrassment?—but a smile on his face.  His hair was shorter on the sides of his head than the top, and strands of his hair was falling forward into his face.

            “Yeah,” you said softly.

            “And me, right?” Jackson said, a confident grin on his face.

            “Yeah,” you said, smiling back.

            “And you haven’t jumped us yet or even asked for an autograph or photo.  You haven’t squealed or screamed or melted in front of us.”

            “Do you not like when fans do that?” you said.

            “Oh, no, I eat that shit up, right Namjoon?” Jackson said, elbowing his friend who couldn’t help but smile but seemed to want to protest.  “But we don’t get to talk to many girls.  Not normal ones anyway.”  You leaned back in the booth at that word and sunk down a little.  You felt your legs brush against both of the boy’s legs under the table, but you didn’t move away.  The alcohol had made your limbs start to feel lightless, and it was good to feel the pressure against your legs.  Neither of the boys moved away, either, and Jackson’s leg even seemed to push into yours. 

            “So I’m a fan, but I’m normal?” you said.

            “I don’t know yet,” Jackson said.  “What’s your phone background?”  Sitting back up, your legs withdrawing and pulling away from the boys’ legs, you opened your phone to reveal a picture you had taken of the silhouette of some trees.  “Okay, okay, do you own BTS merchandise?”

            “Uh, a shirt,” you said, “and the CDs.”

            “Posters?” Jackson said, and Namjoon was listening intently now, too.  You remember talking about this in your application for this contest, but perhaps Namjoon wanted to see if you had been lying or if you would lie now.

            “Sure,” you said, unashamed, “they come with the CDs.”

            “And they’re on your wall?  And you look at them everyday?” Jackson said.  You hesitated at that, because of course you did.  Why else would you put something at the wall?  The boys’ pictures on your wall brought you happiness, though sometimes you couldn’t abide their stares, feeling inferior under them.  “Ah, she does!” Jackson said, wagging his finger at you.

            “So?  It’s not like I look at them to masturbate,” you mumbled, sliding back down in the booth. Both of the boys chocked and coughed, Jackson straight back into his cup, and Namjoon’s knees flew into the table.  “What?  You know people masturbate to your pictures, right?” Jackson recovered faster than his friend and asked,

            “Do they?”

            “Oh come on,” you said, “you can’t be that naïve.”

            “Namjoon, did you know people masturbate to pictures of us?”  Jackson’s eyes were huge, but he was clearly enjoying himself, and Namjoon was about to lose it, but he refrained from laughing.

            “I mean, no one’s told me that before, but I guess it’s to be expected,” Namjoon said, professional as always.

            “But wait, you really never have?” Jackson said, turning his eyes back to you and narrowing them.  You shook your head.  “Then how do you know people do?”

            “Because I know people.”

            “You know people that masturbate to our pictures?” Jackson said, his voice rising, but Namjoon grabbed his arm, trying to keep himself from laughing by taking another drink.

            “No, but I know how people are.  And K-Pop fans are some of the thirstiest people I’ve ever encountered.”  Namjoon chocked again and tilted his head back, trying not to laugh, but his lips were pressed and his face was read.  Jackson licked his lips and then bit them,

            “You’re a K-Pop fan,” Jackson said, “thereby, you must be thirsty.”  Namjoon’s head flew forward at his friend’s comment but he made no move to stop him.  He seemed genuinely interested in what your response was going to be.  Perhaps he wasn’t as professional as he seemed, as you were 100% sure this conversation was crossing too many lines.  But, much to your surprise, you didn’t flinch or hesitate but sat up straight again, rolling your eyes at his logic. 

            “I don’t need to look at pictures to masturbate.”  Namjoon cleared his throat again, his back straight, but his eyes flickered to your face and then wandered off into the distance.  Jackson leaned forward on the table.  For the first time since you—you, of all people—started this conversation, you felt flustered.

            “Really?  Do you read something then?”

            “No,” you sighed and looked around the bar, wondering why you had brought up the subject and how you could get out of this, “I don’t need anything.”

            “You can just…” Jackson said, apparently also starting to feel uncomfortable with the conversation.  You bit your own lip this time, but stopped to nod when you saw Namjoon look at you.  “Okay, I have so many questions,” Jackson said, repositioning himself on his seat.  You finally laughed at how awkward this conversation had become and shook your head repetitively. 

            “Okay, we have to go,” Namjoon said, standing up and pushing Jackson out of the booth.

            “What, no, _no, no_ ,” Jackson said, grasping onto the end of the table and looking down at you.  “Seriously, I need to know something.”

            “Text me,” you said, holding out your hand.  His face lit up and he unlocked his phone for you to put in your number.

            “No, Y/N,” Namjoon said from behind Jackson.  He said it softly but sternly, and your fingers hovered over Jackson’s phone.

            “Wait, really?  Is this in my contract?” you said, looking up at Namjoon.  You genuinely wanted to know, because you didn’t want to break any rules.  Even though he hesitated, he didn’t answer, so you knew the answer was no.  “Is it because he’s a guy or because he’s Jackson from GOT7?”  You said, wondering why Namjoon had told you not to.

            “Come on, we all have work in the morning,” Namjoon said, turning away from the two of you to pay for the drinks.

            “I think he’s jealous,” Jackson whispered to you.

            “Don’t say things you don’t mean,” you said back, handing over his phone.  “It really was a pleasure to meet you.  Sorry you two didn’t get to catch up.”

            “No problem,” Jackson said, pulling his hat back on, “I’m just glad to see him outside of a work event, you know?”  You nodded and hurried to join Namjoon who opened the door of a black car for you before climbing in after you.  The car ride back was silent, and you glanced over a few times at Namjoon who was busy scrolling on his phone.  You brain was working at a thousand miles a minute, regretting everything about the entire evening and about even coming to Korea.  You should’ve just gone to a concert or a fan meet—not that that would ever happen in the states.  In short, you were exactly what Jackson said you were—a squealy fan who melted in front of the boys—you had just been hiding it pretty well for the past week.  By the time you got back to the dorm, the alcohol had worn off and your anxiety had returned, so the burn you felt in your checks was from pure embarrassment.  When you and Namjoon stepped into the elevator, you found yourself spitting out,

            “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.  I don’t know why I said all that.”

            “Huh?” Namjoon said, looking up from his phone.  “Oh, no worries.  Sorry Jackson can be a bit forward.”

            “Oh, that’s not a problem.  I like being forward, remember?”

            “Ah, right,” Namjoon said, giving you a slight smile as you both reached the dorm door.  It wasn’t as late as you had expected it to be, so you weren’t surprised to see Jin and Jungkook cooking in the kitchen.  They both gave you a small wave.  You noticed your dishes were done from earlier, and you wondered who had gone through the effort of washing them.  You poured yourself some water and started to head to your room to ruminate over the past few hours, but Namjoon followed you down the hallway.  You purposefully slowed down, wondering what he was doing, and stopped completely when you felt a slight tug on the back of your sweater.  A second passed by agonizingly slowly.

            “This is really soft,” you heard Namjoon say lowly, and you turned around, causing him to let go of your sweater.  “Look,” he said, regaining his composure quickly, “Jackson was right about one thing.  You’ve been very normal about this whole situation.”  Your eyes shifted at that word again.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Just that I can only imagine how weird this whole thing is for you.  What you shared on your application…” Namjoon said, searching your face. 

            “I think I was so honest on that thing because I never thought I’d actually be here.  I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

            “It’s nothing to apologize for.”

            “Yeah,” you said, your breath getting short.  This was definitely not what you wanted to talk about right now.

            “I think I was just surprised about…what you brought up tonight.”

            “Ah,” you said, really wanting him to stop but not knowing how to make him.

            “I just,” Namjoon said, sticking his hands in his pockets, “I hope you can talk to me about it one day.”  You almost scoffed.  You had to work extra hard to remind yourself that he may actually care and be asking out of general concern.

            “Thanks Namjoon,” you said, as it was the only thing you could think of saying, “goodnight.”  You left him in the dark hallway, rubbing his fingers together remembering how soft the inside of your sweater had been.

 

            You hugged yourself once you shut the door, letting the soft fabric rub over you gently.  As you went to plug in your phone, you noticed someone had texted you while you must have been at the bar.

            “Where are you?”

            “Who is this? You responded.  When you came back from brushing your teeth, you saw another text.

            “Yoongi.”

            “Oh, hi!  I’m was with Namjoon.  Home now.  _What’s up_?”

            “Cool, _see you later._ ”

            “Boo,” you texted back, which was the softest way you could say “fuck you,” as your tolerance of being messed with had already been pushed to the limit.

            “Boo?” A text came back almost immediately.

            “I wish people would say what they mean.  _Where are you_?”

            “ _My room._ ”  Putting your shoes back on, you left your room again, checking down the hall to make sure Namjoon wasn’t in sight, and walked to the door next to yours.  Gently knocking, you were surprised with how quickly the door opened, and even though it was dark inside, you could make out that the room was very clean.  Yoongi stood in the doorway, dressed in all black, a mask already on his face.

            “ _Let’s go,_ ” you said with no other explanation, and he followed you silently out.

 

            There was a bench around the corner under a grove of trees you had always wanted to sit under, and that’s where you led Yoongi.  And that’s where the two of you sat in silence, your legs both covered in black melting into the dark around you.  When you couldn’t stand the silence anymore, you walked back, Yoongi close behind you.  Not even thanking him, you went back to your room and got into bed.  But no matter how hard you hugged yourself, not even your most comfortable sweater could sooth you.  Stripped it off, you flung it across the room and tossed and turned all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Toys with her sweater*
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone enters your room at night without permission, and you film your first Run episode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, minor drinking, panic attack.

**Day 8**

            The sound of your door opening woke you up.  Or maybe it was the mumbled voice that whispered your name in a questioning way that stirred you from sleep.  Your back was to the door, and you heard someone’s bare feet paddling across the floor closer to your bed.  You felt a breeze on your back as they got closer, and you remembered you weren’t wearing any sort of shirt, having gone directly to bed after throwing off your sweater last night.  The blanket was barely covering you, as you had thrown most of it off in the middle of the night.  You felt yourself grip the pillow in front of you tighter and tried not to move at all, feeling grateful you had at least kept our pants on.  The bottom mattered more than the top.  You willed yourself to not open your eyes, though your ears were straining, and while you heard your name one more time, you soon heard the footsteps retreating and your door shutting quietly.  The moment the door shut you stumbled out of bed and into your bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it before throwing up in the sink.

 

            When you woke up again several hours later, you felt empty.  While yesterday you had felt light, today you just felt hollow.  You wanted nothing but to go find some Oreos and get on YouTube for hours watching BTS crack videos, but you were scheduled to shoot a Run episode with none other than BTS themselves in two hours.  Somehow you had managed to stay in bed until nine, and by the time you got dressed, texted your mom an update, attempted some makeup, and moved into the kitchen to make yourself some tea, it was already ten.

            Jimin, J-Hope, and Namjoon were all there and greeted you cheerfully.  As you poured your tea, you felt like the atmosphere had changed, and you couldn’t help but wonder what Namjoon had told the guys.  You felt stupid again.  Namjoon probably told his brothers everything.  You took a deep breath, determined to fake your way through this day.

            “You sure like those pants,” you heard Namjoon said, and you were glad his back was toward him.  He probably meant nothing by it, but all you heard in your head was “You’re poor and unfashionable.” 

            “ _Do you like them?_ ” you said, turning around and raising your eyebrows as you messed with the pockets.  All three of the boys nodded, J-Hope throwing you a thumbs up.

            “ _What kind of tea do you like?_ ” J-Hope asked you.

            “ _Lemon ginger,_ ” you said, letting him smell.  “ _And peppermint._ ”

            “That’s my favorite,” he said, grinning broadly.  You nodded, having know this, and being glad he now knew you liked it, too.  You pushed Namjoon’s comment about your pants aside as the other guys gathered in the kitchen.  Yoongi and Jungkook acknowledged you, but both soon returned to their phones.

            “You look very American,” Tae said when he came in, and you couldn’t help but laugh.  Mina had specifically told you to dress as patriotic as possible.  You had on a denim button up shirt and a red bandana in your hair.  If you had white pants, you seriously would have worn them, but you at least had your white Converse on.

            “ _Red, white, and blue,_ ” you said, giving him a spin.  Everyone else watched you, except Jungkook, some of them smiling at you and some of them just staring, which definitely didn’t make you feel confident, but you were going to run with it today.  Pun intended.  Soon you were all piling into cars to head to the studio to get ready and film.

 

            After hair and make-up and accessorizing—Mina thankfully liked your bandana and didn’t push any jewelry this time—you all entered the studio.  You immediately laughed, as the whole place had been decked out in America paraphernalia.

            “We thought you might miss home,” Jin said next to you.  Your heart soared and then dropped; in all honesty, you hadn’t missed home, besides your mom and dog and bed occasionally, but them thinking you might and wanting to cheer you up made you actually homesick for some strange reason.

            “ _Thanks,_ ” you said and listened to Mina explain your responsibilities while you were set up with a mic.

            “Today is a special episode for the boys all centered around America.  They have some trivia to do.  Some questions about songs—we’ll play one and they have to guess the artist and song.  One point for each they guess correctly.  Some trivia is about American history and facts.  Does that make sense?”

            “Yeah,” you said.  “What’s my job?”

            “Namjoon is the MC for today, and you’re to help.  You won’t participate in the competition, then, but you are to guide them in rock, paper, scissors and are allowed to comment while they are playing.”

            “Okay, so stand there and look pretty?” you said, laughing out of your discomfort.  To actually be on camera with the boys for all ARMIES to see made you really want to throw up again.  Your smile faded remembering a few hours ago.

            “Just have fun. Nothing inappropriate.”

            “Yeah, no problem,” you said.

            “Okay, you’ll need to try to say this in Korean, but after that just speak in English.”

            “Got it,” you said, taking a card from her.  It had some general phrases on it, probably because someone was going to purposefully ask you questions—“ _My name is ___; I’m from ___; I am a teacher; I have two older brothers; I miss my dog_ ” etc.—you laughed at the last one.  “How did you know?”

            “Huh?” Mina said, as she had already turned around.  “Oh, well, if you need that phrase.”

            “Can you teach me to say, ‘Thank you translators,’ or something?  As fans will be working hard on adding subtitles.”  Mina looked confused.

            “We do that.”

            “Ah, in America I have to wait for a fan to translate the Run episodes.   Someone will have to do that for the Korean fans.  If anything I say ends up being used.  If I’m actually on screen at all.”

            “I see what you mean,” Mina said, nodding and coaching you through how to say it.

            Soon the rest of the boys arrived, and you noticed they were all wearing some variation of red, white, or blue.  You felt really dumb when you realized those colors were also on the Korean flag, and you thought how patriotic you all looked.  Everyone got in a line, Tae, Yoongi, Jin, Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, J-Hope, and you, and before you knew it Jungkook was clapping the “slate” and away you all went.

            You flashed back to the times you had tried to watch a Run episode without subtitles and were completely lost.  You felt completely out of control of your face, not sure if you looked as confused as you felt.  At the same time, you were suppressing a giggle, as you felt so out of place.  Plus, what were you supposed to do with your hands?  Not put them in your pocket, you knew that, but right now they were clasped behind your back, and you felt like a little kid waiting in line for the teacher to stop talking.  Speaking of the teacher, he had stopped talking and was looking at you, as was everyone else in class.

            “Ah,” you said, putting on the classic I-was-totally-paying-attention-and-following-along face.  Namjoon laughed behind the cards he was holding and said,

            “Introduce yourself.”

            “ _Ah, yes, thank you,_ ” you said, turning toward a camera and giving a small bow.  “ _My name is Y/N.  But you can call me B.  Nice to meet you._ ”  You gave another small bow.  “ _Thank you for your support._ ”  You could feel your eyebrows dancing with each syllable you struggled with, so you sure hope half of what you said was right.  Facing the boys, you gave them all a stupid grin and a thumbs up and said, “ _Sorry, I’m bad at Korean,_ ” which made most of them laugh.  Several of them denied your claim and praised you or welcomed you before Namjoon was talking again explaining the rules.  Once he was done, they had to divide into teams which was decided by slips of paper.  Soon the teams were decided.  Team Red was Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jimin.  Team Blue was Jin, Tae, and J-Hope.  Rearranging themselves, Namjoon came to stand by you and once everyone settled down, Namjoon asked you,

            “Who do you think will win?”

            “Ah,” you said, seriously considering what the questions might be.  “I expect Yoongi, Jungkook, and J-Hope to know a lot of the music, so Red team has the advantage.  But the trivia could go to anyone.”  As Namjoon was translating, Yoongi spoke over him as he had understood enough of what you had said,

            “ _Red’s her favorite color, so we’ll win for sure._ ”  Jungkook did some sort of wiggle, and the Blue team opposed them, with Jin and J-Hope being extremely loud in their disagreement. 

            Over the next hour you mainly observed the boys arguing, jumping around, and having fun getting stumped or unexpectedly getting answers.  By the end, they were all admitting they didn’t know anything about American history, but you stepped in to say you’d totally fail a Korean test if you had to take one.  Some of them seemed to think it’d be a good idea to give you one, which you quickly tried to back out of.  The music section made you laugh a lot, as you stood to the side and lit up every time you heard a song you knew, sometimes even singing along or mouthing the words.  Namjoon smiled down at you several times, and overall you found yourself not needing to fake having fun.  Even though you couldn’t understand most of what was going on, you knew the boys were having fun, and that made you happy.  Before you knew it, they were wrapping up, and everyone went back to their original line to announce the winner.  As you had anticipated, the Red team won thanks to Yoongi.  He gave a smug smirk and nodded while everyone applauded.

            “ _I researched before B came.  I knew we’d have to do something like this,_ ” he said.

            “ _Yeah, yeah, sure,_ ” J-Hope said.  Namjoon soon took back the spotlight and asked them each what they had learned today.

            “ _Anticipating is key,_ ” Yoongi said.

            “ _I know nothing,_ ” Jimin joked.

            “ _The American and Korean flag have similar colors,_ ” Tae said, looking down at his blue outfit, and you laughed, understanding enough to be glad he had the same thought as you.

            “ _I need to listen to more American music,_ ” J-Hope said.

            “ _Playing video games helped me learn about America, honestly,_ ” Jungkook said.

            “ _We should have a test on American food,_ ” Jin said.  “ _Or just eat American food._ ”

            “Y/N?” Namjoon was saying.  “How was your first Run episode?”

            “ _Thank you,_ ah, thank you for having me,” you said, looking to Namjoon for help.

            “ _Thank you for having me,_ ” he prompted you.  You pointed at him and said,

            “ _That.  Thank you to the translators.  Good work._   Today’s Run episode was fun as always.  I hope everyone enjoys learning a bit about American culture.  Thank you for having me,” you said again, giving a little bow.  Everyone applauded and signed off for the episode and soon everyone was returning mics and discussing food.  The boys had to go to practice, but before they left you pulled Namjoon aside.  He was wearing a red shirt and a denim jacket and he honestly looked like he was ready to go walk in a fashion show, which baffled you.

            “I hate to bother you, but someone came into my room last night,” you began.  You had been watching the boys all day, and no one had said anything, and no one had been acting any different that you could tell, so you have been debating if you should say anything at all, but you wanted to be open with Namjoon as much as you could.  His face looked shocked when you told him.

            “Who was it?”

            “I don’t know.  It doesn’t really matter.  It just scared me.  I mean, he knocked before he came in, but I was asleep—”

            “No, no, that’s not okay, Y/N.  I’ll speak to them about it.”

            “Ah, it’s really not a big deal—”

            “No,” Namjoon said, interrupting you again.  “The rules are clear.  I’m sorry that happened.  I’ll see you later,” he said before dashing off.  You finally sighed.  There was a sense of relief after telling him, a sense of relief after filming the episode, and a sense of relief that he hadn’t brought up last night.  You had also drunk about a gallon of water before filming began, and you now went to feel relief in another way before figuring out what to do the rest of the day.

 

            Having had such a late start to your day, you decided to go sightseeing for a few hours before heading home to exercise.  As you pulled on the rowing machine, sweat dripping down your face, you pushed the thoughts of regret leftover from last night and the thoughts of fear over whoever was in your room out of your mind as you pushed yourself to work harder.  You mentally made a list of things to do the next day, of things you would not discuss with Namjoon or any of the other boys, and of things you definitely wanted to change about yourself this summer.  You slumped over, finally spent, and admitted to yourself that you told yourself every summer you would do things different.  But at twenty-nine you couldn’t really see how you had changed for the better.  Every year seemed to be worse and worse, and you smacked your head, sweat spraying everywhere, upset you ever thought coming to a new country would suddenly solve all of your problems.  For now, you worked on regaining control of your breath as you went back to the dorm.  The boys must have come home from practice, or at least some of them, because when you opened the door you saw Namjoon talking to Tae on the couches.  Not wanting to intrude, you politely waved before walking by them quickly.  You couldn’t help but notice a strained look on Tae’s face as he smiled at you, and Namjoon’s face was definitely filled with concern.

            Great.  What had you done now?  You took your time in the shower, rubbing your head and enjoying the warmth of the water as you tried to relax.  Despite the heat outside, you were glad the dorm was airconditioned, and, wanting to feel safe and soft, you put on your red flannel pajama pants and a loose black shirt.  Letting your hair air dry, you started to study Korean when you wondered if you should let Yoongi know you weren’t going to go for a walk.  You stopped yourself, though.  Even if walking in the evening was normally part of your routine, it would be weird to assume Yoongi already considered it part of his day.  Shaking your head, you organized your desk before you started to journal, but a light knock came on your door.  It was Namjoon.

            “Hi, would you mind joining us in the living room for a bit?” he said.  Everything about everything he said made you super anxious.  You hated when anyone started a conversation with “Can we talk?” or “We need to talk.”  Immediately you assumed you were in trouble, and you started to rack your brain for what you might have done.

            “Sure,” you found yourself saying, though, and you followed him down the hall, watching your feet as you went.  When you saw Namjoon stopping, you looked up, only to see all of the guys sitting around the living room.  At least they had all gathered to kick you out.  You attempted a smile, but probably looked constipated.  Tae was on the couch next to Jimin, but he scooted over and patted the cushion beside him.  Pressing your lips together, you went to sit by them, and immediately wished there was a pillow for you to hug.  You brought your feet up to the couch and sat cross-legged, not carrying that your knees ran into Jimin and Tae’s legs on either side of you.  You stared at Namjoon, waiting for your fate to fall.

            “Y/N,” he said, looking at you seriously, “I just reminded the boys about the rules about not going into your room without your permission.”

            “Ah,” you said, nodding and breathing again.  “Really, it’s okay.”

            “No,” he said, cutting you off again.  “Rules are rules.  We’re all used to walking around and doing whatever we want in the dorm, but some things needs to change this summer.”

            “ _I’m sorry,_ ” you said, hanging your head a little, already feeling like you were a bother.  You could feel several of the guys looking at you at this point.

            “ _No,_ ” Namjoon said again, “ _we all agreed to the rules.  So we’ll follow them.  Right everyone?_ ”  There were nods and words of affirmative all around.  “ _Now, Tae,_ ” Namjoon said, and you turned to look at the boy beside you, suddenly realizing what had happened only a few hours before.  Tae was looking at you, his eyes glistening and his jawline set.  You understood now why Namjoon had been talking to him earlier.

            “Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, and part of you just wanted to reach out and caress his face. “I’m sorry, very sorry.  I”—he was faltering, and you knew he was trying to find the right words, so you waited patiently—“I didn’t know you were sleeping.  I”—his eyes had shifted from yours to your hands you held clasped in your lap to Jimin sitting beyond you and then over to Namjoon—“wanted to practice English.  I’m sorry.”  You found you had rotated on the couch a bit so you could face him better, and you pressed the back of your hand against his leg, not wanting to touch him too much, but wanting to get his attention.  He looked down at your hand and then at your face.

            “I forgive you,” you said.  “It scared me, that’s all.  Let’s practice tonight.”  He smiled, his eyes closing, and he nodded twice.  Looking over at Namjoon, he also smiled and nodded and then clapped.

            “ _Alright, let’s drink,_ ” he said, and he, Jimin, and Yoongi began to pour everyone something.  You politely declined, as did Tae, and for the second time that you day you really had no idea what was going on, but you found yourself not having to fake having fun.  Soon you were laughing and adding in comments of your own, and gradually you felt yourself relax into Tae more beside you.  His arm at one point hung limply over your leg like it was nothing, and you found yourself leaning into him instead of leaning forward every time you laughed.  The conversation seemed to mainly be about their upcoming concert, but plenty of random things were said, and you looked around the room, happy that the boys had each other and jealous at the same time, knowing you would never have anything like they had.  For the second time that day, you thought of all the ways you wanted to change and how easier it might be if you had friends to help you.  A little bit of your soul seemed to escape through a sigh, and you leaned completely onto Tae’s shoulder.  Your hair was still wet; it left a damp spot on his shirt.  It was long enough to tickle his arm.  His head turned to look at you, and his right arm reached across to rub yours.  You wanted to melt, so you didn’t jerk away or move.

            “Let’s go practice,” he said, and you nodded, sleepily following him back to your room.  You ignored any looks or judging the boys may be giving you and let Tae lead you back to your room.  Your flashcards were on your desk, and you watched as Tae snatched them and got into your chair.  Making sure to leave the door open, you sat cross-legged across from him on the bed, grabbing a pillow to hold in front of you, and let him quiz you.  You listened to the sounds of the other boys waft down the hall and found yourself yawning.

            “Ah, _let’s stop,_ ” Tae said.

            “Let’s stop,” you said, and he repeated it.  Before you knew it, he had hopped on the bed beside you, pulling out his phone.

            “Listen,” he said, handing it to you and pushing play.  You held his phone gently in front of you and felt as he leaned back to lay down on your bed, his legs dangling over the end.  You didn’t dare join him and focused instead on the song he had played for you.  You didn’t know the song or the artist, but it was soothing and slow and beautiful.  Everything seemed to be growing quieter around you as it came to an end.  You sat in silence for a few seconds until turning to hand Tae his phone back.  He smiled up at you, and he rested his hand for the second time that evening on your leg, palm up to take his phone back.

            “You’re cool, Y/N,” he said, and you almost melted again, but instead you watched him give you another smile as he closed your door to leave you to sleep.  If you could sleep after everything that happened today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Korean and American flag have similar colors. Just a fact ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mina interviews you about your visit so far, but you’re the one with questions. A shopping experience goes poorly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, panic attack.

**Day 9**

            BTS announces an exclusive fan meet!  The opportunity of a lifetime!  Stay in the boys’ dorms right next door to the members themselves!  All ARMY 19+ are welcome to apply.  Please check the following rules and regulations before doing so.  We can’t wait to meet you!

 

            There were only a few things in life you had ever let yourself reach for that you thought were beyond your reach.  One had been your first dream, of being a writer, but you had quickly given that up when adulthood hit you.  One had been that guy in college.  And one had been applying to this contest.  If you were honest, you weren’t the most optimistic person, so, knowing that millions of fans were going to apply all over the world, you entered because you had no expectations.  You never thought you would win, so you never thought you would meet the boys.  Now, as you sat before Mina, re-looking over the application you had sent in, you grimaced, not understanding why you had shared some of the things you had shared.  Well, you knew why.  You thought you were talking to a piece of paper.  But someone, or someones, had read it, and out of everyone they had picked you.

 

            “How’s the week been going?” Mina asked you.  She sat across from you, a table in-between you.  A camera was next to her, trained on you where you sat.  Mina had reminded you this morning about the interview—you had put it on your calendar last week but had already forgotten until the text at 8am—and, not knowing exactly what to expect, you put on a light blue button-up shirt with a wide round collar, a cobalt blue cardigan, and a tan corduroy skirt.  Not being a super fan of skirts and dresses in the summer, as the heat caused your thighs to stick together in a disgusting manner, you were a little uncomfortable.  But perhaps that was because you were on camera, by yourself, and you had no idea what Mina was going to ask you.  All you knew is that she asked you to be as detailed as possible, pause if you made a mistake and wanting to re-say something, to not share any private information about the boys you might have learned, and to be as honest as possible.

            “Great,” you said, smiling at Mina, not the camera.  “Everyone has been really accommodating.  And Korea is beautiful!  I’m really blessed to be here.”

            “How’s adjusting to the dorm going?”

            “Ah, it is a change living with seven men,” you said, trying not to smile too much, as you could only imagine how wrongly people could take that statement.  “I have two older brothers, but I haven’t lived with them since high school.  But like I said, everyone has been really nice, and I’m starting to feel at home.  I think, at least for me, and I know others wouldn’t be like this, and maybe people won’t understand it, but that hardest part is feeling like I’m not in the way.  The guys have lived together for so long, and I’m this stranger who’s been welcomed into their home, if that makes any sense.  I feel like I’m imposing.  I know I should feel only grateful and only excited to be there, but there are sometimes I just want to stay in my room and be out of the way.  Ah,” you said, casting your eyes down for a moment, upset with yourself.  It was way too early to be this personal and emotional.  “I mean, other ARMY may say I’m wasting this opportunity, but respecting the boys’ personal space is more important to me.  So I am trying to do that.”  As you gave another smile to Mina, you were relieved to see her smile gently back.

            “Do you think you being here has been good for the boys so far?”

            “Oh,” you said, taken back by the question.  You thought of the past week.  You made the boys uncomfortable from day one with your awkward panic attacks and crying.  You almost got Tae in trouble over nothing.  “Honestly?” you asked, and Mina nodded.  “Honestly, I think it’s too early to say.  Obviously, I hope I have been helpful.  I hope, if nothing else, they are all learning some more English and enjoying themselves.  If, when the summer is over, they look back on me and my contribution positively, I will be glad.”

            “Who do you feel you are closest to so far?”  The word “closest” made you a little uncomfortable as you once again thought about any fans watching this one day and growing so jealous over you being “close” to any of the boys that they would hunt you down and eat you alive.

            “I feel myself growing close to Namjoon.  The obvious reason for that is he speaks English so well, so it is easiest to communicate with him.”

            “Has the language barrier been an issue?”

            “Yes, obviously.  I don’t mean that in a rude way, I’m sorry,” you said, raising your hands is in a panic and waving away what you just said.  “I just mean it’s unavoidable at this point.  Thankfully there are a lot of tools available, and Namjoon has been a great help.  I mean, he is really patient with me, so I appreciate his help.  He could easily turn me away to a manager or someone else, but he’s always answered my questions,” you ended, smiling dumbly, feeling warm at how nice Namjoon had been to you.  Your smile disappeared immediately when Mina asked her next question.

            “So which of the boys could you see yourself with?”

            “What?” you managed, trying not to stutter or appear shocked.

            “If you had to date one of the guys, who would you pick?”

            “Mina,” you said, narrowing your eyes and flickering them to the camera and back to her, “I’m not going to answer that.”

            “It’s one of the questions,” she said, almost smirking at you.

            “I can’t answer that,” you said again, almost defiantly.  Why would she be asking you this on camera?  It was an extremely unprofessional question, considering the rules you had been placed under.

            “Is it Namjoon?” Mina continued.

            “No,” you said, but then bit your lip because you didn’t want this footage to be edited to make it look like you didn’t like Namjoon as a person.

            “Yoongi then?” Mina said.

            “No, Mina, I’m not going to answer this question.  I can’t.  I don’t know any of them well enough to know if any of them would be capable with me, or whatever,” you said, your checks burning from anger more than anything else.

            “But you’ve been a fan for years.  You know all about the boys.”  You stared at Mina for a moment, forgetting that there was even a camera in the room.  She was trying to get you to say or do something.  You just weren’t sure what.  Whatever it was, it was pissing you off.

            “Maybe, but I don’t know them,” you said.  “I know things about them.  Knowing what Jin’s favorite color is doesn’t mean I know him.  Anyone can memorize facts about someone.  But that’s completely one-sided.  To know someone they have to know you back, I think, at least.  There are too many fans out there who think they know the boys after watching videos of them.  We don’t know them, though.”

            “But surely you like one boy more than the others.  Every fan has a bias,” Mina said calmly.

            “A bias?” you said, feeling like you were talking to a twelve-year-old ARMY.  You even scoffed.

            “Yes, which boy do you like?  If you could pick.”  Mina’s words were making you sick.  How did she work for them while she was talking about them as if they were some pieces of candy for you to taste?

            “You want me to tell you what I like about one of the boys?”

            “Yes,” Mina said.  You stared at for a few seconds before taking a deep breath.

            “What I like about Namjoon is his ability to lead with humility.  He makes sure everyone is doing his or her best and pushes to better himself, too.  He isn’t afraid to admit his mistakes or be honest about how he is feeling.”  Looking satisfied, Mina opened her mouth, but you continued.  “I like Yoongi because he is incredibly passionate, and his passion inspires me.  He creates, not just music, but a reason for himself to carry on and therefore for others.  He is emotional and wise.  He can say more in silence than most people can in a five-minute conversation.”  Mina opened her mouth again, but you still talked.  “Jin reminds me of myself sometimes, as he is happy when he makes other people happy.  His laugh is ridiculously infectious, and people have told me the same thing about mine.  He’s also, as we all know, an amazing cook, he really is, and kind and patient enough to help me learn about new ingredients.  J-Hope,” you pressed on, watching Mina’s smile fade, “is the embodiment of his name.  If it’s true that he didn’t used to be that hopeful, then his story encourages me that I too can change if I have the right attitude.  Jimin has been the sweetest boy I have ever met, and we’ve barely spoken ten words to each other.  I want nothing but to encourage him, because he deserves it.  I see myself in him when he doesn’t think he is good at something, and I love his honesty.  What I like about Jungkook is his competitiveness and silliness and how hard he works.  He seems like me in not opening up easily to people, which only makes me want to get to know him more.  And Tae,” you said, noticing a smile re-appear on Mina’s face, “never fails to make me laugh.  I swear I could just look at him and smile, and smiling doesn’t come easily for me most of the time.  So he is a positive force in my life even if I don’t really know him.  I like all of the boys.  They’re all amazing people.  But I still don’t know them.  Besides,” you said finally, bringing your hands down—you realized in your anger at Mina you had risen them and began gesturing with them while you talked, something you did when you were overly excited or passionate about a topic—“there’s no way any of them would date me.  And that’s not why I’m here.  I’m a supportive fan who is just glad to be given this opportunity.”  You ended smiling and were extra relieved when Mina got up to turn off the camera. 

            “You speak well,” she said.

            “I hope so,” you said.  “I am a teacher, after all.  But I tend to ramble when I haven’t planned out what to say.  By the way, what was with that question?”

            “Sorry if it caught you off guard,” Mina said, picking up her things.  She did seem apologetic.  “It really was on the question list.”

            “Okay, but why?”  Mina looked at you.  You had risen and stood across the table from her, your hands in your skirt pocket.  She seemed to give you a look over before deciding whether to answer you or not.

            “My job is to make sure you are following the rules and not endangering the safety or reputation of the boys.”

            “Ah,” you said.  She needed to check if you were a crazy fan, in short.

            “Now, if you’re ready, I’m supposed to take you shopping.”

            “What?” you said, stopping short as you followed her out of the room.

            “Namjoon said to go get you some new clothes.”

            “What?” you said again.

            “Clothes?” Mina sighed, turning around to give you another look over.

            “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

            “Nothing that I know of,” she said, “but apparently you didn’t bring many.”  Your checks started to blush, this time from embarrassment.  Namjoon probably owned shirts that cost more than you made in a month.  Of course you didn’t bring many clothes; you brought the ones that fit you that you felt were the most stylish you owned.  With your salary, buying brand names was out of the question.

            “I’m sorry,” you said, knowing you had nothing to apologize for, but apologizing all the same.  “I wouldn’t want them to be embarrassed.  But, really, they should’ve said something before the Run episode.”

            “Y/N,” Mina said, reaching out to touch your arm.  You almost jumped back in surprise, but her touch was gentle.  “Namjoon just wants to treat you.  All of the boys agreed to, as well.  Some even sent suggestions and options.”

            “What?” you said, sounding like a broken record by this point.

            “You know, things that might look good on you.  So we’ll go looking for those.”

            “What?” you said again, even though you had heard her.  But for them to think of suggestions means that they had looked at you.  Or had imagined you in other clothes.  Or.  Oh God.  You suddenly felt very sick, and certainly didn’t want to go shopping, which always only brought you anxiety anyway, but you followed Mina to the car, gave a polite smile and wave to Jisung, and repeated over and over in your head what a privilege it was to be here and how lucky you were to go shopping in Seoul.  But nothing seemed to help.  You followed Mina around in a daze and couldn’t even answer her when she asked what size you were.  Sizes didn’t mean anything—they were different everywhere you went—but you were embarrassed nonetheless.  You looked at her small, straight frame next to your larger, curvy one and knew that she would know nothing about fitting your body.  You knew the boys would know nothing, either.

            After a few hours of only finding a few items successfully—all of which you couldn’t look at the price tag of, for fear you’d die of shock right there on the storeroom floor—your anxiety had really reached its peak, and you managed to ask Mina if they could take you home, as you were really hungry.  Thankfully she complied, mumbling something about getting your measurements, and allowed the car ride to be silent on the way back.  You were glad, as the silence really wasn’t silent as you tried to control your breathing.  You knew you were about to have another panic attack—two in the past week was more than you had had in awhile, making you even more upset—and you could put it off until you were back in your room, but you couldn’t avoid it forever.

            At the dorm, you thanked Mina and Jisung and hurried upstairs, pushing your hands against the elevator wall and staring down at your feet.  Tears had already begun gathering at the edge of your eyes, and one managed to escape as you entered the code for the dorm door.  Dabbing quickly at your eyes, figuring you could blame your allergies if anyone spotted you, you opened the door.

            No one really bothered to look up when you first came in, but as you tried to sneak through the kitchen, Tae appeared before you, asking about your day.  You stopped in your tracks, remembering you were holding a couple of shopping bags and your backpack was still on.  Your eyes met his.  His huge, deep eyes that widened as they met yours, seeing the tears they held.  He said something again, his tone concerned, and you tried to walk past him, but his arms went wide, wide enough to stop you, and then they closed around you, wide enough to cover all the way around you, and you were pressed against Tae’s chest, your face turned quickly as to not smother, and you almost pulled away, but your attack hit you and instead you shook, crying into his shirt.

            You knew what people would think.  You knew the other boys were watching.  But that only made you cry harder, telling yourself again that you didn’t deserve this.  You certainly didn’t deserve Kim Taehyung hugging you so carefully, and you pulled away, but you couldn’t get away, as Tae took your hand and lead you down the hall to your room.  Dumping all of your bags, you let him lead you to your bed and sit you down before climbing up behind you.  He handed you a pillow, and you leaned forward a little into it, trying to stop crying.  Your breathing was already returning to normal, thankfully, so you didn’t sound bad, but your eyes didn’t want to seem to stop.  You flinched when Tae’s hands touched your shoulders and began to massage them gently, and you leaned forward a little more into the pillow, trying to pull away from him.  But there wasn’t anywhere for you to go, and he wasn’t letting go.  He only let go for long enough to hand you his phone with a song pulled up.  Taking it, you pushed play and held his phone in front of you while his fingers pressed into your muscles.  As you felt yourself soften under his touch, you sighed, realizing you had stopped crying.  Tae must have noticed, too, because he removed his hands and soon removed himself from your bed to come and squat in front of you.  He gave you a wary smile, and you couldn’t help smiling back, thinking how ridiculous you must look.

            “You okay?” someone said from the doorway, and you turned to see Namjoon standing there, his hands in his pockets.  You wondered how long he had been there and turned your face back into your pillow.

            “ _I’m okay,_ ” you said, only looking up to look at Tae.  “ _Thank you._ ”  His smile grew more confident at your words, and he nodded.

            “No problem.  Do you want to talk about it?”  You smiled again at him, impressed with his English skills, but you could feel Namjoon in the doorway, and you weren’t ready to explain how you felt it was partially his fault for the shopping disaster, so you said,

            “Tomorrow?”  Tae nodded, understanding, and patting your knee before standing up.

            “Sleep well,” he said, leaving you alone to hug your pillow as he walked past Namjoon.

            “You’re really okay?” Namjoon said again.

            “Yeah.  But I don’t want to talk about it right now, if that’s okay.”

            “Sure,” he said, and you wondered if he meant it.  Still hugging your pillow, you didn’t look at him as he left you alone, closing the door behind him.

            Standing up, you rolled your shoulders and suddenly shivered.  Why had you let him do that?  Had Namjoon seen?  No one besides your physical therapist had given you a massage in years, certainly not one while sitting in bed, and certainly not one intended to comfort you.  Maybe to Tae there was nothing behind it, but there was something deeply intimate about a massage, and you felt guilty that it had happened.  Sighing, you tried to shake your thoughts by rotating your muscles again, but your thoughts were a mess after the day.  It was still early, but you didn’t come out of your room the rest of the night, not up for facing anymore questions you really couldn’t answer.  Especially those from yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's a bias? I love seven men.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You struggled to concentrate on teaching after a wardrobe issue. Jimin tries to get you to dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, panic attack.

**Day 10**

            The seven boys stirred in their seats every time their individual name was said, and their looks ranged from mild curiosity to discomfort.  A screen sat before them, subtitles scrolling on the bottom, and on it played a video of your interview from the other day.

            “ _Ya, you didn’t have to be so harsh with her,_ ” J-Hope said when it was over.  Mina hovered near them, a remote in hand.  

            “ _I wasn’t harsh.  She was clearly reluctant to open up,”_ Mina replied.

 _“Maybe it’s just because she isn’t comfortable with you,_ ” Jungkook said.  He couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said—did you really want to get to know him more?

            “ _I think she’s very wise,_ ” Yoongi chimed in, swiveling in his chair a bit.  “ _She’s clearly smart, but she seems to worry too much.  She reminds me of Jimin before we debuted._ ”

            “ _What?_ ” the blonde-haired boy said, smiling uncomfortably.

            “ _She’s completely insecure and unsure of herself._ ”

            “ _Hey,”_ Jimin said, and Tae gave Jimin and Yoongi a look.

            “ _Yoongi’s right,”_ Tae said, and received a smack from Jimin, “ _she feels deeply and has a great concern for other people, like our Jimin._ ” He brushed his finger under Jimin’s chin, causing the older boy to laugh.

            “ _She also clearly needs a lot of space to herself.  She reminds me of Jungkook before debut,_ ” Yoongi continued.  “ _We can’t expect her to be super friendly with us without knowing us._ ”

            “ _She’s really concerned about what ARMY will think of her,_ ” Jimin added.  “ _I just want her to be comfortable._ ”

            “ _And I don’t think showing us this without her knowing will help with that,_ ” Namjoon finally said.

            “ _Do you think she would have said those things if you knew you were going to watch it today?”_ Mina asked the boys, but they all looked at their leader.

            “ _No, and that’s the problem.  And you need to tell us what happened yesterday._ ”

            “ _What do you mean?_ ”

            “ _Y/N came home crying_ ,” Namjoon said, his eyes dark.

            “ _She did?  I didn’t know.  I took her shopping as you asked._ ”

            “ _Nothing happened?_ ”

            “ _Nothing that I could tell,_ ” Mina said.  The boys contemplated for a few minutes silently at what could have gone wrong, but no one had any answers. 

            “ _Okay, any other updates?_ ” Namjoon asked, standing up.  The rest of the boys did like-wise.

            “ _No, she seems to be following all of the rules very nicely.  If I may say, I think you boys picked wisely._ ”

            “ _We got lucky,_ ” Jin said, and several of them nodded and bowed to Mina before leaving.

 

            A large part of you felt empty this morning, and a greater part guilty when you saw the bags of clothes on the floor.  Crawling out of bed, you pulled the four items you had settled on: a burgundy overall dress with a gray striped button-up shirt, a black jumpsuit, and a denim jacket.  You took a scent of them all and took the tags off all of them without looking at them.  Knowing the boys had a busy schedule today but had an English lesson with you, you decided to try the shirt and overall skirt with the low boots you had brought.  So after exercising, eating breakfast, and showering, you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the skirt several times and turning around, trying to see how short it was.  Frowning, you experimented with bending down and twirling before sighing and deciding you should probably put on some leggings even though it would be hot.

            Wanting to take it easy today, you texted Mina saying you wanted to check out some of the botanical gardens in town.

            “I’m in a meeting, but I’ll send Jisung.  He’ll be there in ten,” Mina responded soon.  Satisfied with only your phone and a water bottle for the parks, you made sure to grab your backpack with your supplies for the boys’ lesson today before going to wait downstairs for Jisung.  You were preoccupied with your phone, checking up on the few social media sites you used, so you didn’t know Jisung had arrived until his shadow loomed over you.

            “Ah,” you said, standing up, flustered, “ _hi, Jisung, how are you?_ ”

            “ _Ah,_ ” Jisung said, copying you in a teasing manner, much to your annoyance, “ _I’m well.  You ready?_ ”  Nodding, you followed him to the car.  This time he opened the front door for you, knowing you wanted to sit there, and you climbed in.

            The rest of the morning Jisung followed you around as you gaped at flowers and green trees.  Often times you felt like a kid, pointing to a tree and looking at Jisung in awe.  He would always smile and chuckle at you, nodding in agreement.  Whenever you got your phone out to take pictures of a flower or a shadow or a stream of water, he would try to take it from you to take a picture of you, but you always evaded his grasp.  As time wore on, he gave up and used his own camera to take candid shots of you taking pictures yourself.  Whenever you caught him, you would say fiercely,

            “ _Jisung, stop,_ ” sometimes adding a lame, “ _please,_ ” but he would only grin at you and shake his head like he didn’t understand you.  After a few hours you were growing hot in your black leggings and becoming hungry.  Sitting down on a bench under a grove, you tried to wipe your sweat away daintily, though you felt like you were just sweating profusely.  Allowing yourself a few moments of rest, you admired the blue sky and listened to the twitter of birds and chatter of visitors as they passed overhead and beside you.  Once again you forgot about Jisung until his shadow loomed over you.  You didn’t jump this time but took his phone from him that he was holding out to you.  On the screen was a picture of you.  Your hands were resting on the bench on either side of you, almost as if you were about to stand up, one leg stretched out in front of you and the other bent, your foot resting on the ground, and your face was raised to the sky, your eyes squinting from the glare of the sun, your mouth partly open, because for some reason you also thought better that way.  You felt flustered again and flipped Jisung’s phone around—what kind of phone did he have that captured you like this?

            “ _I’ll send it to you,_ ” he said, laughing at your shocked expression, and soon enough your phone buzzed. You found yourself looking at it as you followed Jisung back to the car.  In no way did you consider yourself a conceited person.  In fact, you hated looking at yourself in the mirror or taking selfies or looking at pictures of yourself.  That is what was so confusing to you.  You actually looked…good.  Rolling your eyes at yourself, you suddenly had a thought and decided to text Yoongi.

            “ _Did you eat…_ lunch yet?” you said, annoyed you couldn’t remember how to it in Korean.  By the time you were back to the car he had responded.

            “ _No, why?_ ”

            “ _Will you before_ class/lesson/English time (ha)?”

            “ _No, why?_ ” Yoongi said, and you smiled, sending another text, but this time to Mina.

            “Can Jisung and I pick up from food for the boys?”

            “I suppose.  Why?”

            “Because I’m hungry.  And if they do well on English they can have it.”

            “Sounds good,” Mina responded, and, asking her to tell the plan to Jisung, you flung your stuff in the backset and flumped in the front, ready for Jisung to turn on the air.  Your face was red, and you really, really regretted wearing these leggings.  Growing impatient as Jisung talked to Mina on the phone, you started to unlace your boots.  Turning a way from Jisung a bit, but being completely covered by your skirt, you lifted up your butt and quickly pulled off your leggings.  You weren’t as discrete as you would have liked, however, as one foot decided to get stuck, and you had to pull it toward your lap to rip the stupid things off.  Lying back again, fanning yourself with your hand, you looked over at Jisung, who was staring at you.  His checks were red, and you really didn’t think it was from the heat.

            “ _Sorry,”_ you said, realizing it may have been inappropriate, but there was nothing in your contract about not undressing in front of your driver, so what could they do?  “ _Hot,_ ” you explained.  Pressing his lips together and nodding, Jisung concentrated on starting the car to get you some air.

 

            By the time you arrived at the studio, you had cooled off enough to touch up your makeup, but you decided to wait to put your leggings back on so as not to bother Jisung.  The smell of chicken from the backseat that you both had picked up was tormenting you, and you mentally prepared to make this lesson short.  Thanking Jisung, you hopped out and grabbed the food before heading in.

            Most of the boys were already in the studio, so when you went to check in with Mina in for your hair and makeup only Jimin and Yoongi were still there.  Jimin was in a chair with a hair stylist, but Yoongi sat on a couch on his phone.  They both looked up as you came in, though it was probably the chicken they were reacting to more than anything else.

            “ _What’s that?_ ” Yoongi said, coming over to stand next to you, trying to look into the bags.

            “ _Nothing,_ ” you said, setting them down away from them.  He humphed and slunk back to the couch.  You realized you were still awkwardly holding your leggings in one of your hands, and you explained to Mina,

            “If my face, etc., looks okay, I just need to put these on and I’ll be ready.”  Giving you a look over, she shrugged and nodded, so you turned to go.

            “Where are you going?” she said, stopping you.  You looked around at the two boys in the room and then back to Mina.

            “To the bathroom, I guess.”

            “Just do it here,” Mina said, turning her back to you to help Jimin finish getting ready.  You stood for a moment, flashing back to one time you were ten and sleeping over at your best friend’s house.  She had started changing in front of you, much to your horror.  She had thought nothing of it, having sisters and being used to locker rooms.  You, on the other hand, with only brothers and not one to play sports, were in no way used to dressing in front of others.  Again, you knew your skirt would keep things appropriate, but something still seemed wrong about the whole thing.  And yet, you felt like things were tense between you and Mina since the other day, and you didn’t want to upset her.  Glancing once more at the boys—Jimin was facing forward, the two ladies working on his face and hair—and Yoongi’s face was glued to his phone—you half sat in a chair to unlace your shoes again.  Removing them, you contemplated sneaking out before sighing and putting one foot and then the other into your leggings.  As you neared your skirt, you panicked, and tried to bring the front up before the back, all the while keeping your skirt down as to not flash anyone.  Honestly, you did not feel successful, and you stayed bent down to lace your boots back up.  When you finally straightened up, you looked at yourself in the mirror, and in the reflection you saw Yoongi looking at you.  At your face in the mirror.  He gave you a little grin before heaving himself off of the couch and leaving the room.  Pretty positive you would die of embarrassment, you had no other chance but to follow him, too.

            You hadn’t been able to deny how Yoongi seemed to have a bad attitude, or at least an apathetic one, when you had had lessons before, so you didn’t like to look at him anyway.  Today you just had another reason to avoid his gaze: every time you did happen to look at him, he seemed to be smirking at you.  You were beginning to wonder if someone’s gaze had ever given anyone sunburn before.

            But you were professional, and your job right now was to teach the boys some English, so you would do that.  You got your mic on and took your spot before them.  Starting with their journal homework, you worked individually with each for a few minutes while the others worked on a worksheet that had them fill in what English word they thought should go in the sentence that was otherwise in Korean.  When Yoongi finally crawled over to you with his journal that he had actually brought this week, he sat before you as you read what he had written.

            This is hard.  I hate it because I do not say what I can.  I want to say this, but it comes out that.  Understand?

            “ _Is that new?”_ Yoongi’s voice was saying quietly to you, and you looked up from his written words to force yourself to look at him.

            “English?”  You said, smiling.  His voice lowered, and you found yourself swallowing, suddenly extremely uncomfortable.

            “Is this new?” he said in English, pointing at and almost touching your overall skirt.  You nodded and handed his journal back to him.

            “I know it’s difficult.  I feel the same way.  But don’t give up.”  When he had returned to his spot, not without giving you another fluster-inducing smirk, you had the boys share their fill-in-the-blank worksheets and laughs over their answers before moving onto the most important part of the day: food.

            “Okay, for today we’re going to play this game called Boggle,” you explained.  You explained the rules with Namjoon doing some translating, and soon the teams had been picked: Jin, Jungkook, and Yoongi and J-Hope, Jimin, and Tae.  Namjoon was on a team by himself, which pleased everyone else, especially when he whined.  The boys all crowded around the pieces once you had explained the rules—there were twelve dice, each with a different letter on top, their job was to find as many words as possible, as long as the dice were touching in some way—and told them to go, their serious faces went on.  In only a few seconds of silence, groans and cries began to be heard among laughs as they struggled to find words in English or not shout out ones they did see.  After each round they shared their answers so you could keep score, and after a few rounds J-Hope, Jimin, and Tae were actually winning.

            “Okay, okay, but I saw Jin,” Jin protested.  You told him again names didn’t count, but he was persistent.  “ _Plus, Jungkook’s only writing down Korean words!  I think he’s trying to lose on purpose!”_ When the last round ended and J-Hope’s team was still in the lead, Namjoon began his own protesting.

            “Three heads are better than one!  And these words are too little.  I know big words,” he said, reminding you of your texting conversation from a few days ago.  You laughed, but had to declare J-Hope, Jimin, and Tae the winners.  The three celebrated with bouncing around on their pillows before being handed their chicken.  As you all finished the lesson, the four losers huffed and puffed but left the winners and you to enjoy your meal.  The chicken only seemed to energize the three boys more, and their bouncing moved to practically rolling around on the floor and jumping up and down around the room.  To you, they sometimes just looked like the 7th graders you taught back home, just a bunch of kids.  You laughed as you watched them and sat back against the wall when J-Hope put on some music and their flailing became more purposefully and beautiful as they freestyled.  As they laughed and sweated and ran into each other on accident or on purpose, you stretched your legs out and swayed your feet back and forth, the extent to which you wanted to move at the moment.  Your smile grew wider as Tae came and sat against the wall with you, watching his two friends dance.

            “Yesterday,” he said, starting the conversation.  You knew what he wanted to know, so you did your best to be open with him, considering how kind he had been.

            “You know the word nervous?  Anxious?  Scared?” you tried, and he nodded at each.  “When I shop, I feel anxious, nervous, scared.  Shopping makes me feel anxious.”

            “ _Why_?” he said, almost looking hurt at the idea.  You looked at Tae, his golden hair falling in his eyes contrasting perfectly with his dark eyebrows, his perfect skin and jawline, his long, thin lips perfectly pressed together.  Ugh.  How could you explain your self-consciousness to this perfect specimen of a man?

            “I feel inadequate,” you said, and Tae’s forehead furrowed at the word.  “Not perfect.  Not right.”

            “Ah, but you’re pretty,” Tae said, smiling at you.  You smiled back, because you believed him, even if you didn’t believe it yourself.  You were pretty positive you had made him uncomfortable, though, as the conversation died.  In a way, you were glad that Jimin was heading toward you until he reached his hand down to you.  Not really sure what he wanted, you took it, and he lifted you up.  He was stronger than you thought, and you took a few more steps than intended when you stood up.  He dragged you a little into the middle of the room, and you realized what he wanted.  You straight-up had a giggle fit right there in the BTS studio.  It wasn’t a dark, crowded club, you weren’t drunk, and you weren’t with your best friends or your students or the love of your life.  Those were the only times you had ever danced in public before, and there was no way you were going to dance in front of these guys.  The three of them were looking at you oddly.  God, they must all think you were crazy.

            “ _Sorry, I’m not good.  I don’t dance,_ ” you said, wiping the tears from laughing from your eyes.

            “ _No, no,_ ” Jimin said, his body twisting backwards a bit, as if he had gotten shot, “ _everyone can dance._ ”  He took your hand again and pulled you again, but you pulled away.  “ _Mina,”_ the boy said, and you finally noticed Mina standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, “ _doesn’t Y/N dance?_ ”

            “ _She knows a few of your choreographies, and basic ballroom dancing, like the box step and swing moves, yes._ ”

            “ _Box step,_ ” Jimin said, taking your hand again, “ _easy.  J-Hope, music, please._ ”  Not entirely sure what was happening, you watched as J-Hope went to change the music and Jimin placed your hand on his shoulder and came closer to you until his hand was on the small of your back.  Really hoping you didn’t offend him, you felt yourself stiffen.  He offered you his other hand which you took reluctantly.  Swallowing hard, you let him guide you easily across the floor, gently, but with purpose.  Each time his hand holding yours moved, you followed it, and you pulled away or stepped closer based on the pressure on his other hand put on your back.  You knew to not look at your feet, so you could feel yourself take several missteps, and you knew your brow was furrowed as you tried to concentrate, and you found yourself simply grateful that Jimin didn’t laugh at you.  Instead, his brow also furrowed, and he looked at you seriously until this made you laugh, so he laughed, too.  After that, you felt yourself relax a bit, but dancing this close to him was still making you sweat.  In a way, you would have preferred to initially just danced freestyle with them.  Sure, you would have only flailed your limbs and looked ridiculous, but they might have laughed, and you definitely wouldn’t have felt so embarrassed.  This, Jimin pulling you close and having control over where you stepped next, this was way too intimate.  This is why you didn’t dance with people.

            Knowing full-well the song wasn’t over, you dropped your hands and stepped away from Jimin, bowing slightly to him and making sure to give him a smile.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said.

            “ _Thank you!”_ he responded enthusiastically.  Giving all the boys a wave, you left the room, walking past Mina, whose arms were still folded on her chest.  What look was she giving you?

 

            Your hands were resting on the bench on either side of you, almost as if you were about to stand up, one leg stretched out in front of you and the other bent, your foot resting on the ground, and your face was raised to the sky, your eyes squinting from the glare of the sun, your mouth partly open, because for some reason you also thought better that way. 

            You were lying on your bed that evening, looking at the picture Jisung had sent you.  You wanted to post this on Instagram, send it to your friend, share it with someone.  It wasn’t anything egotistical, you just seemed to be seeing what others saw in you.  You had a captivating beauty to you and a welcoming personality.  You looked approachable, and this picture made you believe people when they said you were pretty.  You supposed you just wanted to see it and agree with you.  It really had nothing to do with being prideful, but you still felt like it was a ridiculous request.  Plus, you weren’t allowed to post anything.  Your next thought was Namjoon, and you pulled up your last text conversation with him.  The last thing he had sent had been the picture of his legs and a thumbs-up from practice.  Should you start a conversation with him, or just send a random picture?  Do you caption it?  Sending a picture out of the blew was too weird.  Sighing, you threw your phone on your bed and sprawled.  It was only 8PM.  You had to admit, being in the BTS dorms was hard on your sleep schedule.  You were used to going to bed around 11pm after a set routine, and you had been trying to be flexible, but some days just seem to be so empty.  Realizing it was still too early back home, calling or texting anyone in the states was out of the question, so, despite your awkward interaction earlier, you decided to see if Yoongi was around.

            “ _Hey, you want to walk?_ ” you said, and lay there until your phone buzzed.

            “ _Busy working, sorry.”_

            “ _No problem, good luck._ ” You rolled out of bed and got ready to go for a walk any.  Before you left, you looked through the dorm, but no one seemed to be around, so you left by yourself, really not thinking it was a big deal.  It wasn’t like you intentionally didn’t tell Mina.

            You wanted sugar, that was it.  You had gone almost two weeks without sugar, and that was about your limit.  Even if it was just a sucker, you needed sugar, so you walked toward one of the convenient stores you had noticed several blocks away a couple of days ago.  You strolled leisurely, thinking on the day and tomorrow’s plans, paying attention to your surroundings as well as you always did while simultaneously getting lost in your own mind, as that is why you liked walks to begin with.  As you bought your lollipop and a bag of chips, your phone vibrated again, and as you thanked the clerk you saw Yoongi had texted back, but there was too much Korean to understand immediately, so you spent the next few minutes trying to translate it.

            “ _Sorry if I made you uncomfortable today.  We’re used to changing in front of each other, but we shouldn’t assume you would be.  I’ll work harder at not assuming and being more understanding.  Please be patient with us.  Your outfit looked nice.”_   When you had translated it, you stopped, unsure of how to respond.  When you stopped, you looked around, suddenly realizing you did not know where you were.  Cursing under your breath, you pulled out your map app and put in the dorm address.  Everything looked so different in the dark.  It popped up and you started to follow it, thinking about what to say to Yoongi.

            “ _Please be patient with me.  Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”_ It wasn’t long before Yoongi replied back.

            “ _I wasn’t uncomfortable._ ”  You stopped again, feeling flustered, but also because the map app was freaking out.  You swear the dorm was in the other direction.  It should have just been a straight shot, so what was wrong?  In your exasperation, you suddenly remembered you hadn’t told Mina you were leaving at all.

            “Shit, shit,” you said, starting to text her.  You stopped though, just worried she would get mad at you.  Instead you texted Jisung.  “ _I need help._ ”  You were surprised at how fast his response came.

             “ _Where are you?_ Where?”  Smiling at his English, you positioned yourself by a distinct restaurant sign and a street corner and did your best to send your location to Jisung.  Knowing that he was coming calmed you down, so you tried to enjoy your sucker.  Frustration and embarrassment consumed you.  How stupid could you be getting lost somewhere you had walked to and from for the past week?  Soon your lollipop was gone, and you took to people watching, your hands stuck in your pockets, rocking back and forth on your feet.  You kept checking your phone purposely until you noticed a car pull up in front of you.  A door opened and Jisung came around the back of the car, his head roving back and forth until he spotted you.  Hurrying up to you, his hands grabbed both of your shoulders and he looked you up and down.

             “ _Are you okay?_ ”

             “ _Yes, yes,_ I got lost,” you said, and his frown dissipated. Without another word, he once again opened the door for you and watched you climb inside.  For the second time that day, you melted into the car seats, watching the street lights go whirling by as Jisung drove in silence. 

             “Mina, _don’t tell.  Don’t tell Mina,_ ” you found yourself saying, looking out the window.  “ _Please?”_   Your silent driver stuck to his guns and didn’t respond but simply dropped you off, giving you a lingering look of concern when he did so.  You ignored this.  You were grateful, but you didn’t know how to show it. 

             You remembered what Mina had asked you about what you had done for the boys while you were here, or how you had been helpful during your stay.  Frowning as you re-entered the dorm, you knew it was time to start to pay attention to them and their needs more.  They were being accommodating to you, more than you deserved, but you didn’t expect them to be.  You really should help them more.  You were determined to be more positive around them and make their days brighter.  You would start tonight.  You would start with…Jimin, who was lounging on the couch with Tae when you came in.  Setting your bag of chips down on the island, you went up to him and without any explanation threw your hand out to him.  Puzzled, he placed his in yours, and you lifted him up from the couch with a grunt.  Giggling, he staggered in front of you, and you began to dance as only you could: awkwardly.  You imagined it was a type of salsa move, but there was no music, and you had no confidence, so you probably just looked like a jellyfish.  But you wanted to make Jimin laugh.  And he did, but only briefly before he picked up some form of rhythm from your moving and followed along.  Tae, meanwhile, laughed at you both from his seat.  It didn’t last long; in fact, the second Jimin placed his leg in-between yours and put both arms behind you and seemed to pull you toward him you started laughing and straight up sat on his leg, causing him to kneel and fall with his other leg behind him, also laughing.  Both of your hands flew to his shoulders to steady yourself until you stood up, not wanting to squash him.

           “Tae, ready to practice?” you said, sticking your hand out to him, already dressed in his silk pajamas.  He obliged, and you were glad to walk with a bounce in your step back to your room, excited to end your day with him.  As you sat across from him on your bed, him leaning forward in your chair toward you over your flashcards, you tried to concentrate, but your mind kept replaying Jisung taking a picture of you, Yoongi watching you in the mirror, Jimin holding your hands, and now, Tae, looking up at you with a puzzled look on his face.

            “Y/N?” he said.  “Are you okay?”  You were trying to find the word to describe how this whole day had made you feel.

            “Flustered,” you finally said.  Flustered, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flustered. Flustered indeed.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crying in the bathroom and running away isn’t what you expected to happen, but there you were. The younger boys try to comfort you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words. Panic attack.

**Day 11**

            It had been years since your phone ringing had woken you up, so when the first note played your eyes immediately opened and your finger slid the Answer button across the screen, wondering what was wrong, which friend was drunk and needed a ride…

            “Hello?” you said, your voice lower than normal but high pitched and panicky all at the same time.

            “So, I have some questions.”  It sounded so ominous, and you sat up in the dark.

            “Who is this?” you managed, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

            “Oh, Jackson.  From GOT7.”

            “Jackson?  What the…” you groaned, your heartbeat decreasing as you realized nothing was wrong.

            “Yeah, isn’t this Y/N?” came the puzzled question.

            “Yes, Jackson, but it’s”—you checked your phone—“almost 2AM.  Not normal business hours, if you will.”

            “But I have a question.”

            “Okay?” you said, sighing again.  The part of you that knew you should be extra nice because of who you were speaking to was overpowered by how annoyed you were about being woken up.

            “About how you said you can—"

            “Okay,” you said loudly, drawing out the word.  “Good night, Jackson.”

            “No, wait, I’m just messing around,” the boy said, laughing on the other end of the line.  “Did I really wake you up?”

            “Yes.”

            “Oh.  I guess normal people do sleep at this time.”  That word again.  You let the line stay silent for a moment.  “Did you go to sleep?”

            “No, who falls asleep that fast?” you said.

            “Oh, I can.”

            “I’m too normal for that, I guess,” you said, yawning.

            “I am sorry about waking you up.  Let’s hang out some time!” Jackson said.

            “Sure, but not at 2am.”

            “Fine, fine, and we can talk about—"

            “Goodnight, Jackson,” you said, hanging up before he protested anymore.  The bright light of your phone was hurting your eyes, but the adrenaline from the worry that woke you up meant you weren’t going to go to sleep for awhile.  You got up to go to the bathroom and brush your teeth when you opened up your text messages.

            “ _I wasn’t uncomfortable,_ ” Yoongi had said.  Perhaps it was the late hour.  Or all of the confused, conflicting feelings you had had only hours ago.  But you started to text him, reading it over several times, not wanting to wake him up or bother him, and not wanting to get your hopes up of him texting back.

            “Do you ever get to sit under a tree in a crowded place and just be alone with your thoughts?”  It was a lame question.  It made no sense.  You knew what you meant, but you weren’t even sure what you wanted to ask.  As you fell back into bed, your phone lit up.

            “No.  Someone would recognize me.”  You stared at his words, your heart swelling with pride over his English while breaking all at the same time.

            “That’s sad,” you said.  You wondered how many “normal” things Yoongi and the boys couldn’t do because someone would “recognize” them.  You knew what that meant; recognize means ask for photos or being chased down; it meant your privacy being invaded; it meant not being treated like a “normal” person.

            “Do you?” he asked, and you thought of how back home no one ever knew where you were, how easy it would be to slip away unnoticed.  Hell, only one person had wondered where you were in the past eleven days; you weren’t missed.

            “Yes, I did yesterday,” you said, attaching the photo Jisung had sent of you sitting on the bench.  You looked at it in the message box, wondering why you had sent it.

            “Why are you awake?” he said next, saying nothing of the photo.

            “Because I’m not asleep,” you sent, hugging your pillow tighter and curling to a ball, ready to do just that.

            “You should sleep.”

            “You too?”

            “Okay.”          

            “Okay,” you said, plugging your phone back up and rolling over.

 

            Some days truly were days that needed to just be re-started.  This day was one of them.  Your eyes did not want to open; your body literally tried to seal them shut with gunk.  You back was aching, and you felt drenched in sweat despite the room being cool.  Had you gotten hit with a truck or something?  Moving like a slug off of your bed, you did your best to get ready for the day, not wanting to exercise or do anything productive.  Your phone was trying to get your attention as you got dressed, and you noticed two texts from Mina and Yoongi.  Should you start with the good news or the bad news?  You read Mina’s first.

            “Need you at the studio by 10 for a fitting.  Jisung will pick you up at 9:45.”  More clothes?  You groaned, knowing this day was going to suck.  You switched over to Yoongi’s text, which he had sent at 3:32AM.  That guy clearly hadn’t gone to sleep.

            “ _What’s your biggest fear_?” What a thing to text at 3AM.  Pulling on your favorite white top—high-neck, no-sleeve, lacy, not-see-through—and ripped jeans, you knew exactly what your answer was. 

            “ _Failure._ ” You didn’t wait for an answer, hoping Yoongi was still asleep, and instead hurried to finish getting ready before Jisung arrived. 

 

            Yoongi was not asleep.  He was with all of the boys at the studio.  They were all sitting around a large table in a room with glass walls, Sejin and Mina at the front of the room talking to them.  A staff member had brought you to the door before leaving you, and, even though you stood there awkwardly for a moment not knowing what to do, you were seen spotted and waved in.  The walls were literally see-through, after all, so what were you thinking?  Most of the boys turned around to give you a smile as you entered.  Smiling back and giving a small bow, you awaited instructions.

            “Ah, Y/N,” Mina said, heading to her bag, “I need you to undress and take your measurements.”  Apparently everyone knew the word “undress,” because anyone who had been giving you eye contact immediate turned away as the manager held out a measuring tape to you.  Jungkook’s entire head seemed to retreat like a turtle into his shirt.  Tae’s eyes went to the ceiling.  Namjoon cleared his throat.  Jin looked at Mina and then to Namjoon.  J-Hope’s lips came together and he blinked several times.  Jimin’s face collided with his palm.  Yoongi, however, looked up at Mina’s comment right at you.  Your whole face was freaking out, you just knew it.  Trying to regain your composure, your limp arm came up to take the tape as your mind was rushing to figure out exactly what she meant.  You knew she didn’t mean right here and there, but the way she said it had certainly sounded like it.  “Let’s go,” Mina said, breaking the silence that you could hear everyone breathing in.  Your body convulsed once, causing you to almost throw up, and you tried to play it off as a cough, but you felt like falling straight through the floor and never showing your face in public again.  Not daring to look any of the boys in the eye, you bowed slightly again before turning to follow Mina.

            “Mina,” you heard a low voice say, and your heart raced even faster than you thought it could, “ _let Y/N go by herself.  We’re not done here._ ”  You saw Mina at the door in front of you, her heels twisting a bit into the ground as she considered how to answer Yoongi.

            “ _Of course,_ ” she said, standing out of the way of the door for you.  “Head back when you’re done,” she told her, her voice cheery.  Nodding, you walked past her, determined not to run even if that’s what you wanted to do.

 

            In the bathroom you almost slid to the floor in a closed stall until you remembered it was a bathroom and that would be extremely disgusting.  But your hands shook as you lifted off your top and peeled off your jeans.  The tape measure was cold against your skin, but it felt like it was searing you, marking and labeling every part of you.  You almost couldn’t bring yourself to look at any of the numbers, but you numbly marked them in your phone.  Each time the chord wrapped around your skin you wanted to rip it off, and you began to feel tears pool in your eyes.  Now you were just angry at yourself and finished as quickly as possible.  It was like ripping a band aid off.  Just do it.

            Taking in a deep breath, you found yourself laughing.  You were really crazy.  Who cares that much about how big around their thigh is?  Who are you kidding?  You cared.  Pulling your pants and top back on, you tried to “fix” your face before texting Mina your measurements and leaving the bathroom.  Really not wanting to see the boys or Mina at this moment, you went back down to reception where you saw Jisung sitting in a chair reading a book.

            “ _Hey,_ ” you said, and you felt relieved at the smile he gave you.  “ _Are you hungry?_ ”  Despite wanting to waste away into nothing, you knew that was pointless, and you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.

            “ _No,_ ” Jisung said. 

            “Oh, okay,” you said, feeling defeated.  You wondered if you could just sneak away, but Jisung got up, laughing and waving you to follow him.  As you sat in the car beside him, and then sat across from him as he watched you eat, you noticed you really were feeling better when, almost simultaneously, identical two texts came, one from Yoongi and one from an unknown number.

            “Are you okay?”  You put your phone down on the table and sighed, looking out the window at people passing by.  Of course you weren’t okay, but you would be.  It wasn’t a big deal, really, you had just gotten embarrassed.  It would pass.  You would look them all in the eye later.  There was no point in explaining yourself at the moment; they would probably all agree you overreacted.

            “ _Let’s go,_ ” Jisung said, grabbing your hand.  Managing to grab your phone before he dragged you out, you stumbled behind him.  Once you were outside he let go of your hand, but you followed closely anyway, wondering where you were going now.  Leaving the car behind, you walked around a few blocks, occasionally stopping to window shop or look at something Jisung pointed out until you arrived at a little flower shop.  So little you were glad you didn’t have your backpack, as you were afraid turning around would knock over a stand.  Everything in Seoul was really squished, and the lack of space sometimes fascinated and terrified you.  But here you felt engulfed by the flowers in a comforting way, and you walked among the stands trying not to touch every bud and stem you saw.  Jisung had stayed on the sidewalk watching you with a smile on his face.  When you came out, your heart full, he told you to wait while he picked up a variety of flowers and went to pay for them.  Returning with an entire bouquet arranged elegantly, he handed them to you and nodded approvingly at your grin.  Besides your dad, no guy had ever gotten you flowers before.  You giggled at the ridiculousness of that.  At twenty-nine no guy had ever gotten you flowers.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you finally said. 

           

            Gathering your courage, you returned to the studio, wondering how mad Mina would be at you being gone for almost two hours.  Part of you wondered if she had even checked the bathroom, but when you realized she hadn’t bothered to text you, you assumed Jisung had updated her.  Somehow you were led back to the same room as that morning where everyone was still gathered.  You wondered what they had been doing for so long.  Once again you were spotted through the walls before you even opened the door, and once again everyone turned to greet you, though their looks didn’t linger one.  Only Tae’s brows stayed furrowed as he watched you.

            “Sorry for the intrusion.  I just wanted to return this,” you said, taking the measuring tape from your pocket, “and give you these.”  You handed the tape and bouquet of flowers to Mina, who looked a little speechless.  “Sorry I was gone for so long.  I hadn’t had breakfast and got hungry.  Thank you for all of your help.  Is there anything else you need from me today?”  Mina’s professionalism seemed to have returned as she smiled and told you no.  Finally facing the boys, you gave them all a smile and a wave before leaving the room.  Once you were out of sight, you let out a sigh of relief.  You weren’t going to do anything else all but lie in bed and watch TV.  It was going to be a good day.

 

            Positioning yourself in your bed surrounded by pillows, your computer propped on your knees, a cup of tea in hand, and your comfiest clothes on, watching TV for the next several hours is exactly what you did.  Totally in the binge-watching zone, you only wondered what time it was when you heard people entering the dorm, their conversations wafting down the hall.  Eleven PM?  Holy shit, had you really sat here for basically ten hours?  How embarrassing and yet impressive.  And boy, were you hungry all of a sudden.  The glare of the computer the only light in your room, you saw Tae tentatively peek his head around the corner of your doorway before coming and sitting himself on your bed in front of you.  Sometimes you were really taken back by how comfortable this guy was doing things you would never dream of doing to or with someone you barely knew.

            “ _You didn’t text back,_ ” he said, waving his phone in front of you.

            “Oh, shoot,” you said, your eyes going wide.  Picking up your phone, you saw the text from an unknown number.  Showing him, he nodded when you asked, “ _Is this you?  Sorry!  I forgot._ ”

            “Okay,” Tae said, smiling.  His neck craned to look at your screen, and you turned to show him what you were watching.  “ _I like this one!_ ”  And before you knew it, he was pushing you gently to the side of your bed and lying down next to you, even going as far as to take the computer from you and put it on his stomach.  Your knees still bent in front of you, you felt a little annoyed at his presumption that this was okay.  I mean, you wanted to be alone.  Didn’t you?  Afraid to move and disturbing him, you flickered your eyes back and forth from Tae’s face to the computer screen, occasionally shaking your head at the whole situation.  The volume wasn’t up too loud—you had subtitles on anyway—so the sudden growl of your stomach was enough to make Tae stop the show and look up at you, laughing.

            “ _Are you hungry?_ ”

            “ _Yes,_ ” you groaned, and Tae almost threw your computer on the bed before jumping up and pulling you along with him.  You seemed to be being pulled around a lot today by men much stronger and bigger than you were.  Shaking your head, you followed Tae down the hall, forgetting that you only had leggings and a sweater on, which was probably not appropriate dorm attire.  Jungkook was in the kitchen, and you sat on a stool while you watched Tae make some noodles for you.  Still feeling lethargic from sitting around for so many hours, you felt yourself drooping closer and closer to the island until you rested your head in your hands.  However, the next thing you knew, the presence of someone’s finger in your side may you jolt up and fling your arm at whoever was touching you.  Shocked and immediately apologetic, you saw Tae laughing as he held his arm.

            “ _Sorry, sorry,_ ” you said.  “I’m very ticklish.”  Tae laughed again, and Jungkook said, eyeing you from his bowl of food.

            “ _She’s really sensitive, isn’t she?_ ”

            “ _I have brothers,_ ” you tried to explain, “and, uh, I’m defensive.  _Sorry, it just happened._ ”

            “ _It’s okay,_ ” Tae said, still laughing as he placed a steaming bowl in front of you.  “ _Now I know.  Hey, Jimin,_ ” he called down the hall, “ _are we still going out?_ ”

            “ _Where are you going?_ ” Jungkook said, sucking on the inside of his cheek.

            “ _Monk Hop; Jimin was supposed to invite you._ ”

            “ _Ah, the punk._ ”

            “ _Ah, Jimin, Jungkook says you’re—_ ” but the older boy, despite his size, didn’t get to finish, as Jungkook reached across his meal to smack Tae’s arm.

            “ _I was going to invite you,_ ” Jimin said, coming into the room.  “ _I was just confirming the details with Sejin._ Hey Y/N,” he said, smiling at you.  He had on black leather pants and a short-sleeve button-up shirt with a deep v, exposing his collarbone.  “ _Do you want to come?_ ”

            “Hmm?” you hummed, only half paying attention to what they were talking about as you slurped your noodles.

            “We’re going…out,” Tae said, and Jungkook smiled.

            “Oh, like for drinks?  _Drinking?_ ”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” Jimin said, still grinning.  You felt disgusting after the day’s activities, and while drinking wasn’t the answer to your problems, Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook had asked you to hang out, and you really didn’t want to say no.

            “ _Sure,_ ” you said.  “What should I wear?  _Clothes_?”  Clothes were really the last thing you wanted to think about, enjoying the comfort of your pink sweater and leggings, but you didn’t want to embarrass the boys out in public.  For an answer, Tae took your hand again and dragged you back to your room, looking around.  Your top and pants from earlier were on the back of your chair, and he picked those up.

            “ _These are good,_ ” he said, before leaving you alone to get ready to go out with the maknae line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Comfort" eh?
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Comforting” came in the form of clubbing. Later, you shop for books with Namjoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 12**

            While you couldn’t really believe it, soon it was midnight, and you weren’t in bed but instead in a car with the three youngest members of BTS on your way to drink.  Your eyes were already drooping, and you felt suddenly old compared to the boys who were laughing and talking in their excitement.  You tried to pay attention to where you were headed, but it was dark out, and only when you pulled up and stepped out after the boys did you understand what they had meant by “going out.”

            “ _No,_ ” you said slowly, looking at what was clearly a club.  “ _What are we doing?_ ”  For an answer, Jimin whooped and lead the five of you—Tae, Jungkook, you, Jisung who had driven, and another bodyguard—up a flight of outside stairs and through a door.  Your shock was making you walk blindly.  If Yoongi couldn’t even sit on a park bench during the day, how were these three going to not be seen in a crowded club?  Sure, it was a weekday, but it still sounded packed.  The answer seemed to be the VIP floor above the rest of the crowd that Jimin had led you to.  The only other people up there were two female servers, and a part of you relaxed, if only for the boys’ sake.  You were busy trying to come up with a game plan.  You could never pinpoint what it was about clubs that made people lose any form of dignity.  Perhaps it was the fact that you couldn’t hear anything and were probably going to never hear again after your night, so you might as well enjoy yourself before your brain ruptured and you keeled over.  You hadn’t been to one since college, so the first thing you told yourself was to just observe.  Come up with some questions and find the answers like a good student.

            What was different about Korean clubs than American ones, for instance?

            What kind of music would they play?

            How was everyone dressed?

            How many people would get thrown out?  Throw up?  Make out?  Straight up do the deed on the dance floor?

            Would the boys get drunk?  Would you?  What would happen if you all did?

            You were leaning over the rail, looking down at the crowd of moshing bodies below, so thankful you weren’t down there.  You couldn’t imagine lasting ten seconds in such a confined, crowded space.  Already unable to hear anything, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to see Jungkook handing you a drink.  Noticing Tae didn’t have one, you thought about not drinking, either, but you instead told yourself you’d set a limit at two.  As you took the drink, you noticed it was only champagne, and there wasn’t a high chance of you getting out of control on champagne.  You could never exactly figure out what it was about clubs that made the straight-laced, rule-follower in you shrink away.  Maybe it was how dark it was despite various strobing lights that made your eyes want to shut forever before your head seized.  Or how low the ceiling was, making everyone seem like they needed to cram together and work to hold the roof above them before it squashed them all to death.  Whatever it was, you sat on an uncomfortable chair, Jisung and the other bodyguard standing watch at the door, and took in the sight.  The three boys, sometimes just looking like outlines in the dark space, were dancing around and with and on each other like there was no stopping them.  You swore, if the shippers could see what you were seeing.  Shaking your head with a laugh, you stood up and went back to the rail, leaning forward on it a bit to look down below. 

            The bass was making your whole head hurt and heart pound, and you really weren’t sure how much longer your adrenaline could keep you going when you felt two hands grasp your hips from behind.  You could never really understand what it was about clubs that made people act the way they did.  The proximity to strangers made you think touching was normal, and the belief that you would never see that person again meant anything was a go.  So, considering there was plenty of room on this floor and you would definitely see all of these boys tomorrow, you aren’t sure why you did what you did.

            First, you flinched, but, knowing it had to be one of the boys, tried to turn around to see who it was, only to have the hands dig deeper into your jeans and pull on you.  Letting out a delayed yelp, you grasped ineffectively for the rail bar, only to be dragged backwards.  As you let your arms go a little limp in front of you, you noticed Tae and Jimin dancing in front of you, leaving the culprit behind you to be none other than Jungkook.  You were honestly surprised, as you and the boy hadn’t even had one conversation in the eleven days you had been living down the hall from him, so you decided to have a little fun.  As he stopped moving backwards, his hands were still fastened tightly to your waist, and you straightened your back, leaning back until you made contact with his chest.  He was at least a head taller than you, so your head fit nicely onto his shoulder, his breath dangerously close to your ear.  He moved slightly, cautiously, moving your hips with his hands, and you closed your eyes.  Your left hand trailed down to his, and you clung to it, feeling his grip loosen on your hip.  Your other hand trailed up behind him until it found the back of his neck, and you gently stroked down his hair.  He took a breath and released your hips, but not before you pressed the rest of yourself into him, your butt touching his belt buckle.  Fumbling, he disengaged himself completely, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you turned around and saw his eyes huge.

            “ _Holy shit,_ ” he said, looking at you.  It had all happened so quickly that the other two guys didn’t know what you were laughing at, and as Jungkook went to get himself another drink you picked your next target.  Jimin’s head was thrown back, his blonde hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, and you went to him slowly.  Unlike the other day in the dorm, this time you didn’t want to make him laugh.  His moves were carefree, his legs wide and his arms waving in front of him, so you made your move by taking his hands.  His face didn’t show any sort of disagreement, so you stepped closer to him and put them on your waist.  He latched on immediately, so you let go and moved your own hands to wrap around behind his head, all the while stepping closer and closer with the beat.  Soon the only thing keeping the two of you separate was your own bent arms pressed against both of your chests.  Jimin’s eyes trailed downward—you were glad for your shirt’s high neckline—seemingly to your hips, and you scooted your legs on either side of his left leg and dropped down slightly.  You made contact at just the right moment, and Jimin’s leg came between yours and you rolled yourself back up it.  The poor boy mumbled something and you pushed away, laughing at his face.

            You turned to your next victim, who had almost stopped moving completely as he watched you with Jimin.  His eyes were wide, and he had a stupid grin on his face, which only got wider as he saw you looking at him.  He waved his hands and shook his head in a “no” gesture.  But you weren’t about to let him off the hook.  You glanced once at Jungkook, who was staring from the couch, and once at Jimin, who was diving in to sit next to Jungkook.  You felt your nerve leave you for a moment, and you wondered what they thought of you now.  You just wanted to have fun; you hadn’t thought about what it might make them think of you.  But it would look unfair if you didn’t finish, so you did what you thought would make him give in quickly. 

            Stepping toward Tae with a mischievous grin, you wrapped your arms around him.  His hands also found your waist, his grip larger but gentler than the others, and yours went straight into the back of his pant pockets.  He laughed at you, his head thrown back, and then he looked straight into your eyes, almost as if initiating a challenge.  You faltered for a moment, not sure what to do, so you removed your hands and tried to push yourself off his chest, but his grip tightened, and the next thing you knew he had spun you around and pulled you close.  You weren’t laughing at this.  Instead, your breath seemed to have left you, and your arms had gone limp.  Quickly, you brought them up to his, mainly to steady yourself, and you felt his face close to your ear, and you shuddered as his breath hit the back of your neck.  You felt your hand moving as his moved away from your hip, and then, without warning, it was skimming your stomach under your shirt.  Just barely, just tentatively and gently, but enough to make your hairs stand on end and for your fight or flight reflexes to kick in.  Before you knew it, your elbow slung backwards into Tae’s stomach, and he immediately let go of you, laughing and holding his side.

            “Oh, shit,” you said, turning around to see him doubled over in front of you.  If he wasn’t laughing, you would have been afraid you had hurt him.

            “ _She’s sensitive!_ ” Jungkook yelled, and Jimin’s laugh followed.  You offered Tae your hand to help him to the couch, but instead he took it and pulled you in for a side hug, laughing until tears came to his eyes.

            “ _She really doesn’t like being touched,_ ” he managed to say.  It seemed like a good signal to leave, so you filed out after the boys, stopping partly as you got in the car.  Jisung had been there the whole time.  What if he told Mina what you had done.

            “Ugh,” you groaned out loud.  “Someone stop me before I do that again.  _I’m sorry, guys._ ”  Not sure what you said, the boys shrugged your apology off, insisting they had had a good time.  Still, you distanced yourself by staring out the window, and before you were back to the dorm the boys had all fallen asleep.  They woke up groggily and moved slowly through the building.  You operated the elevator and opened the dorm door for them and made sure they all took a glass of water back to their rooms.  Jimin engulfed you in a back hug, thanking you and telling you goodnight before shuffling away.  Jungkook even gave you a smile before leaving.  Tae followed you silently down to your room and said goodnight, his voice low and sleepy.  Unable to sleep without showering, you tried to move quickly, but your limbs were giving up on you.  As you climbed into bed, it was past 2AM, and you cursed your body, knowing it would wake you up in about four hours despite your exhaustion.  Your phone also showed a new text, from Tae.  You grinned despite being so tired, wondering what he wanted.

            “Y/N?” was all he said.

            “ _Yes_?” you replied, and in a few seconds you heard a soft knock on your door.  “ _Come in?_ ” you said out loud, sitting up slightly in bed and holding a pillow in front of you.  Tae stood in the doorway wearing his silk pajamas and messing with his hair.

            “ _What’s wrong?_ ” you said, not being able to think of any reason he was standing there.

            “ _Yoongi isn’t home,_ ” he said, and you still wondered what that had to do with you.  “Can I sleep here?” His voice was so low and quiet you almost didn’t hear him, but you laughed once in surprise.  You really needed to stop laughing at every situation that made you uncomfortable.  People might misunderstand.  Sure enough, Tae seemed to be turning on his heel, so you stopped him.

            “ _Yeah, come here._ ”  Not entirely sure what you were doing, considering you were 99% sure this was breaking all of the rules, you patted the bed beside you.  Tae almost skipped toward you, thankfully leaving the door open.  If anyone found you, you could say…something.  Tae climbed into bed beside you and sat there for a moment, maybe the awkwardness of his request hitting him.  “Ah,” you said, patting to the side of the bed on your left, “ _here.  I sleep_ facing that way,” you indicated to the right, and Tae climbed over you, his knees brushing yours.  Grabbing himself a pillow, he threw it behind his head and fell into it, sighing completely.  Seeing you hug a pillow tightly, he grinned.

            “I do that,” he said, and you nodded, feeling anxious now when all you wanted was to go to sleep.  Slowly you laid down again and turned on your right, away from Tae, hugging your pillow tightly, and willed yourself to close your eyes and sleep.  Your mind had other plans, though.  As Tae’s breath became slower and heavier, you thought of the last time you slept next to a guy.  You felt his weight in the bed and heard the sounds he made in his sleep.  You felt the way his hands had roamed over yours and heard the squeaks of the bed as he moved.  You remembered the first night you had spent with him.  You lived in the same building and the loneliness broke you one night.  He was a nice guy.  When you texted asking if you could come over, he complied, and treated you like a child, but you felt safe and protected as he rolled away from you and kept distance between the two of you.  You had laid on your side all night unable to sleep, wanting him to close the distance and hold you.  But you laid awake terrified at the same time of what to do if he did touch you.

            And now.  It was the same again, and you couldn’t take another sleepless night, so you would get up, get dressed appropriately, and go sleep on the couch.  You would tell Tae in the morning some story.  You wouldn’t get in trouble or bother him.  The moment you decided all this, however, Tae rolled over toward you, and his arm flapped over you before tightening around the pillow you held in front of you, dragging it and you closer to him.  You swear you whimpered a bit in despair.  You were trapped now.  And you definitely hummed when you heard and felt Tae’s voice on your neck,

            “ _So sensitive._ I won’t do anything.”  They were words of comfort meant to calm you, but you lay there the rest of the night, your eyes refusing to shut, trying to register what he meant by that.

            Because he had said the same thing, too.  For months.  He treated you as a friend until he didn’t.  Because friends don’t do what the two of you did.  “I don’t do anything” quickly because “Let’s do something.”  To him, you became something.  To you, he became everything.  It was a dangerous slope, anything.  One you couldn’t take again.

 

            As six AM rolled around, you couldn’t take it anymore.  You really had to pee, and you really needed to sleep if only for a few minutes.  Wiggling away from Tae’s arm but leaving the pillow behind for him to hold, you quietly pulled out clothes and went to the bathroom.  When you came back, you were relieved to see Tae was still asleep, and you shuffled slowly to the living room to lie on a couch.  Almost instantaneously you fell asleep.

            Only to be awoken what felt like two minutes later by noise in the kitchen across the room.  You were facing the couch, and you were glad, because you felt extremely angry.  You knew it was just lack of sleep getting to you, and no one’s fault but your own, but you were still angry.  You decided to keep still, hoping whoever was in the kitchen would leave soon.  Instead, more boys seemed to arrive, as the noise only increased.  Trying not to groan, you rolled over to see Jin, J-Hope, Jungkook, and Namjoon in the kitchen eating breakfast.

            “Y/N!” Jin said.  “Did we wake you up?”  Uh, yes.

            “ _No,_ ” you said, throwing a smile on.

            “Why are you on the couch?” Namjoon said.

            “I couldn’t sleep,” you said, as that was the truth, even if not the whole truth.

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” Namjoon said.  “Are you still up for lessons today?”

            “Of course,” you said, sitting up and fixing your hair, “being tired doesn’t get you out of work.”  You walked past the boys to go back to your room, noticing you had managed to sleep for over two hours, which was better than nothing, but your tone had come across really rude toward Namjoon, and you could tell today was going to be hard.  In your room you noticed Tae was gone, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you got ready.  You hoped Mina had gotten everything you needed for today’s lesson, and you cursed yourself for not being more prepared.  Refusing to feel sorry for yourself, however, you went with a pair of comfortable blue jeans, a plain black shirt, and your purple bomber jacket with flowers on it.  When you came back to the kitchen, J-Hope handed you a cup of tea and Jin pushed a plate of food in front of you.  Giving them both genuine smiles, you ate quickly so you could all leave together.  Yoongi and Tae were apparently meeting you there, making you wonder when Tae had snuck away.

 

            At the studio you let Mina do your makeup, as you really hadn’t had time, and she had a lot to say about the bags under your eyes.

            “They’re genetic,” you said, which, again, was partially true.  “My allergies are bad,” you said to explain why they were burning so much.  “They’re brown,” you also remember explaining, though you don’t know what the question had been.  She soon stopped talking to you, thankfully, and soon you were sitting on your pillow in front of the boys.  The lesson began with their journals again, and you were glad to see Jungkook, Jimin, and Tae not acting any different around you today.  Yoongi had forgotten his journal again—and there was an entire elaborate story behind why this was—but you only glared at him until he shut up and hung his head a bit.  Jimin continued to struggle with writing a lot, but you praised him regardless and soon were ready to move on to the day’s activity.  A staff member brought a box to you, and you were pleased to see they had arranged it just how you wanted.  You began to explain to the boys,

            “Inside this box are a bunch of bags.”  You held up one of the brown paper bags to show them.  “Inside the bags are objects,” you said, shaking it.  This one didn’t make any noise.  “I promise there’s something in there.”  Some of the boys laughed and nodded, following along.  “Today we’re going to work on describing things.  Words that describe nouns are adjectives.  So we need to use adjectives to describe what this item is.  Then you’ll need to guess what it might be.  Everyone can guess even if it’s not an item he’s describing.  Make sense?”  Namjoon helped by translating a bit, and soon everyone was nodding.  Before you passed out the bags, you went over a lengthy list of adjectives, using them as examples with single words and in sentences.  After answering some questions, it seemed like everyone was ready, so you gave everyone a bag and asked Namjoon to start.  His face was a complete grimace as he stuck his hand in the bag, but it relaxed and looked serious as he felt the item.

            “It’s soft.  Small.  Fuzzy?  Furry?”

            “Is it alive?” J-Hope said.

            “No.  Round.  Hmm, I don’t know what else.”

            “Okay, guesses?” you said to everyone else.  There were some totally out-there ideas, but a few said hair ball or cotton ball.  “Namjoon?”

            “I think it’s a cotton ball,” and when he pulled it out, he made a “I knew it” face.  As the boys continued, you kept score and helped if they needed it, but you mostly just observed, trying not to fall asleep.  After each boy had done two bags—wax flakes being the only object that stumped them completely—you decided to not do another activity as they had learned a lot of new words today and instead signed off.  Once again they all said thank you and bowed to you.

            When you went to take your mic off, you felt a twinge at the back of your neck and groaned at what felt like a migraine in the making.  Sure enough, as you drove back to the dorm with Jin, Jimin, and Tae, you closed your eyes and rubbed your temples, trying to prevent it.  No luck.  By the time you made it back to the dorm, you wanted to curl into a ball and die from the pain.  Migraines always made you want to cry they hurt so badly, but crying always made them worse.  Without a word you went to your room and climbed into bed, shutting your eyes.  Jin, Jimin, and Tae had watched you go, looks of concern on their faces, and the moment you left the kitchen Jin turned on the two.

            “ _How much did she drink last night?_ ”

            “ _Not much at all, honest,_ ” Tae said.

            “ _Maybe she’s a lightweight,_ ” Jimin suggested.

            “ _Aish,_ ” Jin said, tsking at the boys, and heading down the hallway to your room.  Standing tentatively at your doorway, he said softly.  “Y/N?  You okay?”  Prying your eyes open, you rolled over and pulled up the translating app on your phone and typed in the word migraine.

            “ _Migraine,_ ” it said.

            “Ah,” Jin said, and disappeared.  You closed your eyes again, knowing if you fell asleep then your migraine would go away.  They usually knocked you out of commission for three to four hours, and you were at least glad you had nothing else scheduled for the day.  In a few moments you heard someone clearing his throat, and you opened your eyes enough to see Jin close to your bed.  If you weren’t in so much pain, you would’ve reacted, but instead you just grunted.  Jin was holding out something to you, so you sat up and took it; a few pain pills and a glass of water.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said.

            “Lay down,” he said softly, and you did with no argument.  The other thing he had been holding in his hands he leaned down to place on your forehead; it was a wet towel, and you started at its coldness but soon relaxed.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said, feeling a tear escape your eye.  Jin hummed in response, and you could feel him close to your side as he squatted and leaned against your bed, watching you with his head resting on his arms.  You don’t know how long he sat there, because you soon fell asleep, but you were glad to know someone was looking out for you.

 

            When you woke up for what felt like the third time that day, your migraine was thankfully gone, but you still felt disgusting, as it was five in the afternoon and you hadn’t really done anything all day.  Brushing your teeth, you checked your phone, noticing a text from Namjoon.

            “Want to go shopping? For books this time.”  You couldn’t help but smile at the distinction and left your room in a hurry, worried that since the text was sent two hours ago he had already left.

            “Yes!  Where?”

            “My room,” he replied, which was a really weird thing to say.  Did he mean shopping online?  Excited about books and to just be out of bed, you went down the hall and knocked on his door.  You heard him say to come in, so you opened the door slowly.  Namjoon was lying on his bed, his phone in his hands, and he smiled up at you but didn’t move.

            “Jin said you were napping?”  You nodded, trying not to look too much around his room.  “I was trying to do work, but I think I fell asleep, too.  So, books?”  At your nod, he hopped out of bed and slipped on his shoes before ushering you out.  Downstairs a car was already waiting, and on the ride you and Namjoon discussed your favorite books and authors.  You knew you were getting too excited when your hands came up to add passion to your discussion, but you didn’t stop.  You really weren’t afraid of Namjoon judging you over your love of books, and for that you were glad. 

            The store he brought you to was small, which wasn’t surprising, as everything in Seoul was, but the intricate puzzle of the bookshelves intrigued you, and you were glad the place wasn’t too crowded.  Namjoon had a hat and a mask on, and there were two staff members following behind you the whole time, but you couldn’t shake the fear of someone recognizing him and freaking out.  As you walked up and down the rows of books, you were glad you would never have to worry about being mobbed while browsing books. 

            At one point you couldn’t help but stop and observe Namjoon from afar.  One of his hands lingered in his pocket as the other held a book out in front of him.  He looked so peaceful in his oversized sweater, and when his head turned to look at you, you didn’t look away, only smiled.  To your surprise, his looked at the ground and smiled, and for a moment you wondered if you had made him nervous.  Shaking the thought, you continued exploring until you found a book in the English section you hadn’t read before that looked interesting.  As Namjoon paid, you stood close to him and smiled as he talked to the owner.  You were close enough for your jacket to touch his sweater, and your arm pressed into his as you bowed to the cashier on your way out.

            The car ride back was quiet, but only because Namjoon had already started reading.  Not wanting to hurt your head again, you decided to wait until you had better lighting.  The driver stopped somewhere to pick up food, and you silently thanked Namjoon, as you hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  You watched in amusement as Namjoon read all the way up the elevator, one had on his book and the other on the food bag, and carried out opening the door, taking out the food, and putting it on the small table in the living room all while reading.  He had positioned himself against the couch on the floor and had pulled the table closer to him.  Not waiting to be invited, you went to sit by him and enjoy your meal before turning to your book. 

            For the next two hours the two of you sat there, your legs occasionally spread out before you under the table, sometimes bent, sometimes crossed.  You couldn’t help experimenting, and sometimes you bounce your knees up and down when they were bent, bumping into Namjoon’s.  When they were crossed sometimes you purposefully let them graze his.  You were honestly impressed by his concentration on his book, as he never seemed to move away from you or even look at you.  Satisfied, you decided to leave him completely alone and spread your legs out in front of you again and pulled your book closer to your face.  After turning a few pages, you noticed Namjoon finally seemed to be stirring.  Apparently he actually wasn’t a reading robot.  No, he took a deep breath, and without looking at you slowly turned and laid down, resting his head on your thigh.  Thankfully hidden by your book, your face froze.  The thing was, you had a thing for guys laying in your lap—you loved it—and you were internally freaking out.  You felt your breathing still and then change as you felt his head on your leg.  He seemed to think nothing of the situation, so you refused to, too.  You turned another page even though you had no idea what you had just read, and soon almost forgot he was even there.  In fact, you only became aware of him again when his phone rang and he sat up to answer it.  Then he stood up and left the room without another word.  Laughing to yourself, you noticed how late it was and decided to clean up before going to bed.

            When you got back to your room, you noticed a stack of boxes and bags right inside your door.  One had a note stuck to the outside, and after you took off your jacket, you peeled it off.  Turning on your light, you read:

                        —I hope these make you feel good—Tae.

            Inside the bags and boxes were a variety of clothes from Puma workout clothes and shoes to none other than a Gucci jacket.  You held it up and your stomach turned over several times.  You could only imagine how much it had cost, but you were positive it was more than you made in a month.  There was no way you could accept these.  People back home would be suspicious or envious or judge you.  There’s no way someone like you should wear Gucci.  Sighing at how much you hated yourself and refused to let you accept these presents, you gently laid the jacket back down and left your room.  Walking a few feet down the hall, you noticed Tae and Yoongi’s door was open, but you knocked on it anyway before it swung open.  Tae was on his computer on his bed, and he smiled up at you.  You wanted to tell him to take the clothes back.  That you’d be too uncomfortable to wear them.  That the gesture was sweet but inappropriate.  That they barely knew you, and you weren’t someone who could wear brand name clothes because you couldn’t afford them.  That you didn’t deserve them, so you couldn’t accept them.  But instead you hung your head and, without asking for permission, climbed into his bed and rolled onto your side, burying your face into the side of his leg.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said, really unable to say anything else.  You heard him chuckle, and then you felt his hand fall on your head, and his fingers moved through your hair over your scalp until you fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The club scene. I'm sorry ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> I like fluffy fluff.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You accidentally fall asleep on someone’s bed, and someone else isn’t happy. The boys put together a picture scavenger hunt for you, but being filmed is odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 13**

            Tae had turned away from you.  You still lay on top of his covers, but you had rolled over to your other side, curled up almost completely.  And someone was standing over you, his eyes narrow and his jaw locked.

            “Y/N,” he said for the third time, and this time your eyes peeled open to reveal the silhouette of Yoongi in front of you.  Groaning softly, you blinked up at him, wondering why he had woken you up.  And you waited for him to say something.  But he only looked at you, and soon you looked away, extremely uncomfortable.  Only when you curled into yourself a little more did you remember where you were.

            “Shit, sorry,” you said, completely awake now.  Rolling off of Tae’s bed, you scurried past Yoongi, unable to look at him again.  If you had looked, you would have seen him grinning at you in the dark as he watched you leave.

 

            When you woke up again in your own bed, you felt refreshed for once.  You realized the past few days had been pretty draining, mostly emotional, and you were glad to have slept so much last night.  After exercising and showering you felt almost new and decided to sort through your new clothes and hang them up while decided what to wear today.  Discovering a pink skirt that had, to your great delight, pockets, you settled on that with a short-sleeved, striped black and white shirt.  You put your hair in two low side buns and looked at your phone, wondering what the plan was for today.  Mina had already texted you with instructions to come by the studio as soon as possible, so you told her you’d be ready after you ate.

            Once you got to the studio, you peeked in to see the boys already practicing their choreography.  You tried to just wave and leave them alone, but Jimin noticed you and rushed to your side.

            “Y/N, _good morning!_ ” he said.  Namjoon came up beside him and gave you a smile.

            “How’s your book?” you said.

            “Huh?  Oh, it was good.”

            “You already finished it?”

            “Yeah,” Namjoon said sheepishly, but you smiled at him reassuringly.

            “That’s really impressive.”

            “Y/N!” Tae was saying, as he had also come up to you.  Once again you looked for any signs that he was acting awkward or different around you, but to no avail.  He pointed at your outfit. “Is it new?”

            “Yeah,” you said, twirling your hips a bit to give the skirt a swish.  “I feel very…girly.”  Your nose wrinkled at the word.

            “You look good,” Tae said, giving you a thumbs-up.  Feeling grateful but also uncomfortable, considering you weren’t used to people buying you clothes and then being around to comment on how they looked on you, you managed a smile.

            “What are you up to today?” Namjoon asked.

            “Oh, Mina has something for me to do.”

            “Oh?” he said and said something to the boys.  Jimin and Tae’s eyes both sparkled, and you wondered what was going on.  “Have fun!”  And with no other explanation the boys went back to the group to keep practicing.  Great.  With Namjoon’s tone and Jimin and Tae’s reaction, you were feeling really nervous about whatever Mina had in store for you.  Sighing, you made your way to see her.

            “I just have a few questions,” Mina said as you sat across from her.  Oh.  Perfect.  You loved Mina’s questions.  “How has being filmed been?  Are you getting comfortable with it?”

            “Honestly?  Not really.  Why?”

            “Tomorrow the boys have another Run episode.  They’d like you to join them if you’re willing.”

            “Oh, of course,” you said. 

            “Are you willing to be filmed doing more mundane things?”

            “Like what?” you said, watching and growing nervous every time Mina wrote something down.  You felt like you were at a therapist’s office.

            “Like just you exploring town?”

            “Why would anyone film me sightseeing?” you said.  You seriously couldn’t imagine why anyone anywhere at anytime would ever want to watch you walking around somewhere.

            “Why we film anyone.  So we can watch them have fun and feel happy.  Or live vicariously through them.  Don’t you think international ARMIES want to see what Seoul is like?”

            “Hmm,” you said, really not comfortable with the idea.

            “So, would you be comfortable with it?”

            “Honestly?” you said again, and Mina nodded, looking at you.  “No.  But if you tell me it needs to happen, I’ll let it.  I’m just not used to it, so I wouldn’t know how to act.”

            “Just act like the cameras aren’t there, just like when you do lessons with the boys.”

            “Okay,” you said slowly, really considering how to do that.

            “Great!  Because the boys have planned an activity for you.”

            “What?” you said, looking at the paper Mina was sliding across the table to you.  On it were a serious of directions and seven words or sentences scribbled under them each in a different handwriting.  One for each of the boys, you assumed.

            “They’d like you to take a picture of or with these seven different objects today.”

            “Oh my god, is this a picture scavenger hunt?” you said, unable to hide your excitement.  You. Loved. Scavenger hunts.

            “Yes,” Mina said.  “The first thing to do is see if you can guess who wrote each object.”

            “Got it,” you said, looking over the seven items and the handwriting.  They were all in English, so you were pleased with yourself for making the boys journal lately.  A few of their handwriting was really distinct, like Namjoon’s, but the ones you weren’t sure about you guessed based on which boy might want to see or might like the item. Soon you had connected the seven items with a boy and showed it to Mina for approval.

  1. Picture with a dog (Tae)
  2. Sunset (Namjoon)
  3. Under a tree (Yoongi)
  4. A meal (Jin)
  5. Flowers (Jimin)
  6. Mural wall (Jungkook)
  7. Bridge (J-Hope)



“How,” Mina said, and you swear her voice faltered, “did you guess all of these correctly?”

You laughed, pleased with yourself at getting them all right but also for surprising Mina.

            “Well, I know some of their handwriting.  It’s a skill most teachers have.  I wasn’t sure about Junkook, Jimin, and J-Hope, so I just guessed based on what I thought they would’ve put.”

            “Hmm,” Mina said, clearly trying not to show her surprise.  “Well, are the instructions clear?”

            “Yes,” you said.  “And someone will be filming me the entire time?”

            “When possible, yes.  Jisung will go with you.”

            “Jisung?” you said.  “I mean, that’s great.  He just does so much.”

            “Mhmm,” Mina said again, standing up.  “Text if you need anything. Have fun, but be safe.”

            “Right,” you said, taking the paper with to go back downstairs to meet up with Jisung.  Once you left Mina, you couldn’t hide your excitement.  You weren’t excited about being filmed, but you absolutely felt like a little kid every time you did a scavenger hunt, and you loved taking pictures.  Plus you would get to see a lot of sights you hadn’t gotten to yet.  Overall, you had a grin plastered over your face which was sure to remain there for the rest of the day.

 

            The first weird thing about being filmed doing normal things was having to wear a mic and mic belt while you walked around.  You really wish someone had told you this was happening today because you felt like your shirt was too tight, for one thing.  Also, a skirt wasn’t ideal for walking around a ton.  The second weird thing was only carrying your phone—Jisung slung your bag over his back.  It just felt unrealistic to not be shown with your bag and water.  The third and weirdest part was basically talking to yourself.  You knew just being filmed while you silently walked around would be boring.  But it was also awkward to point things out and make comments as if you were talking to someone.  Sure, Jisung was there, but he couldn’t speak English.  Still, you were surprised how all these weird aspects didn’t completely cause you to shut down.  Jisung, in fact, helped tremendously.  Often he would smile or even chuckle at what you said or did.  And you tried to just pretend you were talking to your friends or your mom and tried not to worry too much about how sweaty and disgusting you probably looked.

            Even though you had until after sunset to finish, you still planned out your route while Jisung started the car.  Traffic in Seoul could be pretty rough, and you didn’t want to waste time, so you opted instead for knocking off pictures off the list in proximity to each other.  Jisung took you to Iwha first, known for its art but also for annoying tourists.  You knew you would look like the latter but didn’t want to be, so you mostly walked in silence with Jisung’s camera trained on you.  There were so many mural walls and little art pieces and random wildflowers or flowers in front of shops to choose from that you took way too many pictures.  At one point a shop owner had come out to talk to Jisung, probably about why he had a camera.  While you couldn’t understand what he was saying, he seemed to be handling the lady carefully and well, as her face was soon smiling.  She went back into her shop and returned with two icecreams.

            “ _Thank you!_ ” you said, bowing to her and taking them both.  She started to say something else, and you smiled, trying to follow along unsuccessfully.  You just let Jisung talk to her as you licked your icecream.  After a few moments the second icecream in your hand was starting to melt, and you pushed it past the camera toward Jisung’s face.  You caught him off guard, and the icecream collided with his mouth, causing you to laugh.  Apologizing, the lady left again to bring back a napkin.  It was a flurry of thanking her and apologizing to Jisung until finally it was just the two of you again, and you finished your icecream while letting Jisung lick at his that you still held in your hand.

            Impressed with all of the art and how steep the climb had been to get there, you were pleased with your pictures you had taken and ready to go to the next spot after your hands were washed with some water from your bottle.  Knowing that Naksan Park was right around the corner, you headed there next to try to find trees and more flowers.  You found yourself out of breath as you walked around, saying to Jisung,

            “Where I live, it’s flat.”  You demonstrated with your hand held out flat.  “Here, it’s like—” and you waved your hand up and down in a wave.  “ _Everyone, train hard._ Seoul has lots of hills.  It’s no joke.  But _it’s so pretty_!” you insisted, stopping by another patch of flowers to prove your point.  “It’s summer, _summer,_ but everything is still so green.  In Texas, everything is this color right now,” you said, picking up some tan dirt nearby and letting it fall through your fingers with a laugh.  You walked through the park a bit more until you collapsed in a bench of exhaustion.  “ _I’m hungry,_ ” you said.  “Ah, let’s find some dogs!”  You hopped off and started to hurry down the hill, but you turned around.  “To play with, not eat,” you clarified before giving a thumbs-up.  “I miss my dog,” you continued, pulling out your phone to find a picture.  “ _My dog’s name is Arya,_ here she is.”  You tried to steady your phone in front of the camera for Jisung to see.  “She’s the prettiest dog in the world.  _I love her._ ”  You plastered stupid grin on your face and actually started to text your mom on how Arya was doing.

            You ended up finding a dog café that didn’t have enough food for lunch, but you got a drink and sat on the floor surrounded by slobbery dogs.  Jisung had checked before filming, and they let him.  You imagined filming was good for business, so you enjoyed a rest inside and took enough pictures of every dog to appease the dog lover in you for a few days.  Insisting on getting an actual meal, you and Jisung soon found a place, and he sat the camera up on the table to point toward you.

            “Really?” you said, frowning and scrunching your face in a playful way.  If there had not been a camera, you wouldn’t be upset, but having your picture taken while you were eating made you super uncomfortable.  Jisung didn’t listen to you, though, so you tried to just enjoy your meal, making sure to snap a few aesthetic photos of it before you began.  You shared a few bites with Jisung and let him give you a few pieces of his meat, and you sighed in contentment when you were done.  While you ate you had tried to make a few comments about what you liked about it, etc., but there was just wasn’t a way to make eating entertaining.

            You had yet to be satisfied with a picture under a tree yet, and you had to get the sunset and a bridge, so you rested while Jisung drove you down to World Cup Park.  It was really a collection of parks, and as you meandered for hours, your feet began to drag.  But you found a myriad of flowers, small bridges, and trees.  You enjoyed people watching and talking about random things to Jisung, and as evening fell you sat along the water, resting your feet and simply enjoying the breeze.  You had noticed several people throughout the day eyeing you and Jisung, and you wondered if they wondered what you were filming for.  If you saw anyone on the street with a camera trained on them, you would wonder, too, after all.  You hoped that Mina and the boys would be pleased with you, even though you were really unsure what they had wanted exactly anyway.  As the sun set, you suddenly felt incredibly lonely despite Jisung sitting a few feet away.  You had had a fun day, but you wanted to share it with someone.  You wished someone was there beside you now, enjoying the sunset.  After taking pictures of the sky changing colors, you sent one to Yoongi.

            “ _Ready?_ ” you said to Jisung, who nodded and followed you back.  It took awhile to get back to the car, and you were officially beat as you climbed into the front seat.  Your shoes had not been ideal for the day, and you wanted nothing but to take them off and take a long bath.  You figured Jisung would take you back to the dorm, so you sat back and look at your text messages.  Your mom had updated you on your dog, and you sent a few pictures from today, figuring Mina wouldn’t find out and they were harmless sightseeing pictures anyway.  Yoongi had texted back, which you noticed brought a smile to your face.

            “ _Wow, beautiful.  Where are you?_ ”

            “World Cup Park.  _Headed home._ ”

            “ _Come to the studio._ ”  You waited until Jisung was at a stop light before you showed him Yoongi’s text.  You knew it had said “come,” but you weren’t sure where.  Jisung just nodded and kept driving.  Unsure of what was happening, you decided to text back anyway.

            “ _Okay._ ”  Leaning back and closing your eyes, your stomach was growling, and you felt extremely weak after so much walking.  You heard Jisung clear his throat, and you were afraid you must have dozed off because the car was parked, and your door was open.  Jisung stood there, his hand out to you.  Blushing slightly, wondering how awful you had looked while you slept, you took his hand and climbed out of the car.

            “Jisung,” you said, taking your bag from him.  “ _Thank you._ ”  The guy just smiled at you, bowing slightly.  “I hope,” you said, even though you felt it was fruitless, “you had fun today.  Because I did.”  He nodded, you figured just out of politeness, and gave you another reassuring smile.  You decided to text Yoongi as you entered the building, as you weren’t sure where you were supposed to go.

            “ _I’m here.  Could you come down_?”

            “ _Sure, sure,_ ” he texted back, and you went through the pictures you had taken while you waited.  Mina had wanted you to send her the best seven from each category, so you worked on selecting your favorites while you waited.  Soon an elevator dinged and Yoongi was stepping out.  He was wearing khaki pants, a plain black shirt, and a flannel shirt.  A cap sat on his head covering up his messy hair, and he gestured for you to follow him.  Standing next to him, you suddenly realized how disgusting you were, covered in sweat.  You wiped at your brow nervously and stepped away from him.  He noticed, of course, and pursed his lips at you slightly but didn’t say anything.  When the elevator dinged and you followed him out, you began to understand where you were going, and when he stopped in front of his studio door and punched in a code, you stopped at the threshold as he went in.  Noticing you weren’t following him, he turned around and cocked his head at you.

            “ _Is it okay?_ ” you said, not understanding why he was letting you into his studio.

            “ _Yeah, yeah,_ ” he said, but his face still looked confused.  Slowly, carefully, you stepped over the doorsill and into his studio and let the door close behind you.  You tried not to look around too much, feeling like you were intruding, but you sat down when Yoongi pointed to the couch.

            “How was your day?” Yoongi said as he sat in his swivel chair.  You continued to be amazed how casual your conversations were with these guys.  They acted like they already knew you and were comfortable with you, which you simply couldn’t understand.

            “ _Awesome,_ ” you said, because it was the truth.  “I’m tired and hungry, though,” you added a laugh.  “ _How was your day_?”  Yoongi leaned back in his chair, smiling at you.

            “ _Tiring, but…_ productive.”

            “Ah, good word,” you said.

            “I ordered food,” Yoongi said, and your face lit up.  You didn’t even care what it was going to be, you were so hungry.

            “ _Ah, thank you!_ ”  Smiling, Yoongi turned around in his chair and put his headphones in and started working.  You were honestly a little surprised.  You had no idea why you were here.  Trying not to be offended or too confused, you finished looking through your pictures and started to send them to Mina while Yoongi worked.  In a few minutes you heard his phone buzz, and he pulled off his headphones.

            “ _Be right back._ Listen to this,” he said, and unplugged his headphones before pushing play.  As the track started to play, he left the room, and you sat on the couch, trying to figure out what song this was.  But it wasn’t any song you had ever heard before, and it took you about ten seconds to realize it was a new song.  Your eyes went wide and you leaned forward, trying to hear every note better.  There were no words yet, so you could hear the tempo increase, the swell of the strings in the background, and the boom of the bass toward the end.  Overall, you loved it, and were pleased when Yoongi returned with food, a smile plastered on your face.

            “ _I love it!_ ” you said, and immediately started to describe what you liked about it.  You even got up and moved to his computer, rewinding to your favorite part to play it again.  You were afraid most of what you were saying wasn’t translating, but you knew your excitement and passion was shining through, as Yoongi was smiling at you.  He nodded at most of what you said and even came to take the mouse from you, his hand briefly touching yours and his chest leaning against your back until you stepped away, to show you his favorite part.  You could feel your breath still as he talked, his hands coming up in front of his chest, and you found yourself staring at his face, a sudden urge to reach over and kiss him coming over you.  You, of course, would never do that, but you couldn’t deny how attracted you to were to Yoongi.  You were easily attracted to talent, passionate people, and you went back to the couch to open up the food to distract yourself.  Yoongi soon joined you, and you both sat on the floor talking about what you could in-between bites.  When you were done, you leaned against the couch and then pointed at his keyboard.

            “May I play?”  He followed your fingers to the keys and then looked back at you.

            “You play?”  Again, you were fairly sure he knew the answer, as it had been on your application, but maybe he was being polite, or maybe he had forgotten.  Or maybe he hadn’t read your information.  Either way, you nodded.

            “I’m no good, but yeah,” you said, standing up and smoothing down your skirt.  You hadn’t played in probably three weeks, so you knew you would be rusty, plus playing in front of anyone, much less Min Yoongi always made you nervous, but you loved playing piano and had been missing it lately.  As a kid you had taken lessons for years.  You had learned you didn’t have a natural talent for it, but it was your favorite instrument, and if you ever went too long without playing, you missed it terribly.  Yoongi pulled his chair over for you, and you sat down timidly, placing your fingers lightly on the keys.  Keyboards were nothing compared to real pianos, but this was better than nothing.  Playing your favorite song that you still had memorized, you lost yourself a bit in the music as you always did but finished awkwardly because when you were done you didn’t know what to do.  Yoongi was on the floor below you, and he smiled up at you.

            “ _Beautiful._ You’re really good.”  You knew he meant the song, but the compliment still surprised you, and you nodded, sliding off of the chair until you sat on the floor next to you.  Your legs stretched out in front of you, as you weren’t about to sit cross legged in a skirt, and  they contacted with the side of Yoongi’s.  You let yourself sit there looking over at Yoongi for only a second, as you remembered once again how bad your feet must smell, and they were so close to his face right now.

            “Ah, I should go home,” you said, standing up.  Yoongi stood with you.

            “Let me go, too.  _With you,_ ” he said, but you shook your head.

            “Don’t worry about me, you need to work,” you said, trying to step past him, but his hand reached out and grabbed the edge of your skirt.  You stopped in your tracks, your eyes straight ahead.

            “Did you tell me what to do?” his voice was low.

            “Ah, _no, sorry,_ ” you said, your voice panicking.  “I mean, _I mean,_ I don’t want to be a burden.  A bother.  Don’t let me distract you,” you said.  Yoongi dropped your skirt at that and looked at the ground for a moment.

            “I want to go home.  _So, let’s go,_ ” he finally said, and grabbing his bag, lead you out of his studio.  He was silent as you excited the building, and you were worried you had upset him.  As he put a mask over his face as you left the building, you followed behind him down the street.  His hands were stuck in his pocket, and his face was stuck in your head.  By the time you got back to the dorm, you were frustrated, and in the elevator you finally turned to him.

            “ _I am sorry.  Thank you for the food._ And letting me play piano.”  Yoongi looked up at you and peeled off his mask.

            “Was Mina nice to you today?”  His question surprised you, but you nodded.  “She was wrong.  Yesterday.  I want, we want you to have fun.  Be happy.  Feel safe.  We’re glad you’re here.”  You only nodded, forgetting how much English Yoongi knew and feeling swept away again by his abilities and the simple fact that seemed to care.  It’s not like you had forgotten how much Mina had embarrassed you yesterday or how you had cried in a bathroom stall, and you had noticed the boys were visible upset, but you didn’t think they cared much beyond a slight inconvenience.  “But Y/N,” he said, his voice low again, “be careful.”  The elevator door dinged, and he stepped out.  Momentarily stunned, you stuck your hand out to keep the doors from closing so you could follow him.  Before he punched in the code to the dorm’s door, you grabbed him gently by the arm.  He turned around, looking at your hand, and you instantly let go.

            “Be careful?” you said, confused.

            “Last night,” he said, and turned around again as if that explained everything.  You took his arm again, this time harder.

            “ _What_?”  You could only assume what he was insinuating, but you didn’t want to assume.  Plus, nothing had happened, and falling asleep on Tae’s bed had been a complete accident, so you were a little annoyed he seemed so upset about it.  “Yoongi,” you said, not letting him go.

            “ _You were in our room._ ”  You understood enough of this to get his point.

            “ _I fell asleep._ It was an accident.  Tae didn’t do anything.”

            “He should have,” Yoongi said, and as you let go of his arm in surprise he clarified, “He should have…made you go to bed.”

            “ _Okay,_ ” you said.  “ _Don’t be mad at him,_ it’s my fault.  Wait,” you said, grabbing his arm for the third time as he moved to open the door, but this time you only held his shirt sleeve in your fingertips.  “Yoongi, _are you mad at me?_ ”  He looked at you now, his face softening. 

            “ _No._ ”  As if to reinforce his answer, his right hand came across his body to take yours from his shirt.  He gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go and finally opening the dorm door.  You hummed in response and followed him in, but you were still confused as to why he had sounded so serious in cautioning you to be careful.  Careful of what?  As soon as you stepped in the dorm, Yoongi almost shouted, his smile huge, “ _Everyone, Y/N plays the piano!_ ”  J-Hope, Jin, and Tae were in the living room, and they all gave various responses.

            “Uh huh, uh huh,” you said, shooing your fans away to finally go shower.  As you got ready for bed, you were almost glad Tae hadn’t come to practice English with you after what Yoongi had said.  Did he say to be careful because he didn’t really know the right English words to say?  Were you really in danger of getting in trouble?  Or, even though you couldn’t imagine this as a possibility, was he afraid Tae might hurt you?  How were you to be more careful if you didn’t even know what you were afraid of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really want to visit Seoul.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a Run episode, you and the boys go the nursery, and too much cuteness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> Complete fluff. Inspired by the Monsta X episode (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyLxeLlJ8fc&t=263s).

**Day 14**

            “What?  No.  No way.  This is a terrible idea,” you stammered, your eyes huge, looking around at the guys. 

            “What?  Why?” Namjoon said.

            “Because your fans, ARMY, they’ll explode from cuteness overload.  Seriously, please don’t do this,” you said, your voice way whinier than you expected it to be.  Several of the boys laughed but kept getting their makeup done.  No one was going to listen to you.  Or they wanted to kill their fans with cuteness.  It had probably happened before to some unsuspecting poor soul.  BTS hanging out with kids for a Run episode?  Yeah, this was going to be adorable, and you already knew impossible to get through without a permanent smile stuck on your face.

 

            Apparently, as Jin let slip while you were driving to the school, you were to blame for this outing.

            “ _What?  What?  Why?_ ” you said, because Jin legitimately sounded upset.  You honestly couldn’t tell most of the time whether his exaggerating was serious or not.  But he refused to answer, so you pleaded with Namjoon who came up with some bullshit answer.

            “You like kids, right?”  You groaned at this.  You freaking loved kids.  You taught older kids, twelve-eighteen-year-olds, and they weren’t cute at that stage.  Babies and toddlers, little five-year-olds asking you a dozen questions over one stupid bug?  You ate that shit up.  And, though you had never admitted it to anyone except your mom and best friend, you had really been wanting a baby lately.  You knew it was just hormones; you were almost thirty, after all, but you weren’t married or even in a steady relationship, and having a kid just looked like an impossibility at this point.  Still, your heart overflowed, and you found yourself verbally gushing over kids these days, and sometimes seeing your friends with their babies just made your heart hurt.

            You also knew another one of your weaknesses was guys who were good with kids, so you were mentally preparing yourself to somehow keep it together for the next couple of hours.  Maybe the guys would just be terrible and would hate every second of it, you told yourself, but that was ridiculous.  They were too good at acting to let on if they were hating something they needed to like, so that strategy wouldn’t work.  As the cars pulled up, you wondered exactly what your role would be today, but as they set up they explained you would do what the boys did.  Each of you was to have a child assigned to him, and for a few hours you would play with and care for that child.  Their teachers would be overlooking and helping with the other students if there were any problems.  Mina had spent the morning coaching you through some words and phrases you might need, but otherwise you were just going to have to rely on your experience with childcare and whatever motherly instincts you might have.

            As you all lined up outside, you stood to J-Hope’s left and listened to Namjoon translate the staff’s instructions before they started shooting.  Namjoon told you to also repeat what you had said earlier about ARMY, which made you laugh.  But you shrugged.  It was a show, after all, and sometimes scripted and staged.  One of the school’s staff came out and handed you all what looked like aprons which you all put on.  You were wondering about how different Korean nurseries and schools were from America, but you were cut off as Jungkook slapped the “slate” and the show started.  J-Hope asked what you were all doing and a staff member began explaining.  Even though you all knew what you were supposed to do, everyone played it off like it was the first you were hearing it.  Your actions ranged from surprised to looks of concern.

            “ _What if Namjoon breaks a kid?_ ” someone said, and he steered the conversation to you.

            “ _B_ , _you teach kids, any advice?_ ”

            “Ah, be on their level,” you said, squatting down a bit to demonstrate.  Several of the boys emulated you, making you laugh.  “But I think this is a bad idea!  It’s going to be too cute.  ARMY will die of cuteness.”  You laughed, and as Namjoon translated the boys did, too, as if it was the first time they were hearing it.  Having done your “line,” you kept quiet as the staff finished explaining before leading you inside.  They took you to a classroom which was crowded with shelves, tables, and children.  Your experience in Seoul had continued to show you that things were really squished in big cities, and you wondered how the large boys and camera crew would all fit in here.  Part of you worried about simply not falling over anyone or tripping a kid.  You smiled, imaging some BTS member falling on a kid.  Most likely Namjoon, honestly.  The children were all lined up at the front of the classroom, their bodies swaying, messing with their clothes or fingers or poking each other as they waited by their teacher for you.  There were twelve in all, and their almost identical black haircuts and tiny clothes almost made you squeal and die from cuteness right then and there.  You guessed they were between one and two, as they didn’t seem very mobile but could stand and walk on their own.  The teacher introduced each of them, and you knew there was no way you would remember all of their names, but noted who was paired with which kid.  You were assigned to a little boy, who you noticed immediately was timid and shy, as he didn’t approach you.  Instead, you went to him and squatted down to give him a smile.  His name was Woo, and you wanted to hug him already, but you figured he would need some time to get you know you.  Yoongi also had a boy who looked so adorably chubby that Yoongi’s face already had a gummy grin on it.  Jin’s height didn’t seem to intimidate the girl he was with, as he was already sitting with her and making her laugh by asking questions and pointing at different parts of her shirt.  Another little girl was peering up at Namjoon, who seemed the most unsure of all the boys of what to do.  J-Hope’s energy was well spent on a little boy who seemed like a little trouble maker, as he kept trying to climb on a table but kept getting picked up by J-Hope and held in midair for awhile.  You thought you might melt at Jimin whose face looked so soft as he played with a little girl who had already grabbed onto his hand and was leading him around wordlessly.  He kept smiling at the camera or at anyone who was noticing what was happening, his heart clearly happy.  Tae’s child was also a girl, and his excitement may have scared her a bit at first, but he was also squatting in front of her and rocking his head back and forth as he talked to her.  Finally, Jungkook, who looked nervous, was lead to a little girl, and the two of them seemed to be conducting a staring contest sitting across from each other.

            You did your absolute best to only pay attention to Woo, the little boy in front of you.  At first you just waited and then asked him some questions, but he didn’t seem very talkative.  You kept noticing he was looking over at J-Hope and his little boy, so, crawling on your knees, you lead him gently over to the pair.  When Woo reached the other little boy, his arms reached out and started rubbing up and down his.  The other little boy responded by doing the same, and J-Hope and you looked at each other, confused but happy.  The two little boys were clearly friends, so you sat next to J-Hope for awhile and watched them play with each other.  As they did, you noticed Jungkook doing a puzzle with his girl, patiently helping her to rotate each piece and praising her when she got one right.  Tae’s kid must be friends with Jimin’s, as they kept holding on to each other’s’ hands and swaying back and forth together.  You had probably been there five minutes and already you knew this was too much cuteness.  Woo was still content with his friend, so you watched Jin, who had placed his little girl on his lap and was reading to her.  She kept looking up at his face instead of the book, and he kept jokingly telling her to look at the book.  She seemed to understand him perfectly, as she didn’t listen to him at all, which you knew made him laugh even more.  Meanwhile, Namjoon really did look like he was afraid to break his little girl, as the pair of them hadn’t really moved.  The room was really crowded, so you wondered if he was also worried about knocking something over.

            “Namjoon,” you called softly, and his eyes met yours.  You waved him over, and he pointed down to his kid.  Giggling, you left Woo with J-Hope for a moment to crawl over to her.

            “ _Hello,_ ” you said, “ _what’s your name_?” The little girl finally tore her eyes away from Namjoon to look at you.

            “Choon-Hei,” she muttered.

            “ _Hello,_ ” you said again, “ _this is Namjoon._ ”  Pointing up at him made her look back at the man in question.  And that seemed to be all she wanted to do, look at Namjoon, so you laughed.  “Maybe sit with her?” you told him, and he nodded, finding a place to sit near her.  You went back to Woo, who was still playing with his friend.  Yoongi’s little boy had come over, too, and a dispute seemed like it was about to happen over a certain toy.  You immediately swooped down among the three little boys and took the toy in question.  All three of them looked up at you, and, quickly handing the toy to J-Hope, you knew you needed to distract them as soon as possible. Yoongi seemed to be on the same page, as he was holding a box full of wooden blocks and pushed them in front of the three.  Only his kid was still looking up at you as if you had just robbed him, so you knelt down between him and Woo and reached for a block to hand him.  Thankfully this seemed to appease him, and soon the three were making stacks to knock over.  You took another moment to glance around as Yoongi and J-Hope talked about anything they could remember from their nursery years.  Everywhere you looked was a cuteness overload, and your face hurt from smiling so much already.

            After awhile, the teachers told everyone it was time to eat, so you held the children sit at their tables and lift bite after bite into their mouths.  Woo seemed really independent at eating, and you only helped him a few times when he dropped something or seemed to forget that one of his hands already held some rice when he went in with his other hand.  His little chubby cheeks were full, and his fists were full of rice.  It made your heart so full.  Namjoon and his little girl seemed to have a silent understanding of each other, but he was talking to her as she ate, and once she even lifted up a bite to him.  He gently reached down and let her feed him, and you almost squealed.  Jin’s girl was still in his lap, and he simply fed her, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.  Tae and Jimin had to separate their girls as they seemed to only want to smear food on each other; not in a violent way, just in a cute, don’t-you-want-this-on-your-clothes way.  Jimin kept wiping food of his girl’s cheeks and then looking up at the camera every time to say,

            “ _They’re so soft!_ ”  The girl with Jungkook kept trying to stand up, and he very gently kept pulling on her hand to make her concentrate on eating.  You thought he heard him threaten to eat her food if she didn’t at one point, which made you laugh.  Yoongi also seemed to be struggling to get his little boy to eat.  He seemed to have taken an interest in you, and, as you were sitting near him, reach up at one point to try to pull your hair.

            “Oh,” you said, finding yourself being pulled toward him.

            “ _No, no,_ ” you heard Yoongi say, and his arm reached over to you, picking the boy’s hand out of your hair.  Yoongi then took it upon himself to make the boy eat by placing bites before his mouth.  They seemed to glare at each other, but the boy didn’t whine or bother you anymore.  J-Hope’s boy was still full of a lot of energy, clearly, as he kept laughing at J-Hope after every bite he took.  J-Hope wasn’t even doing anything funny, but he laughed every time the kid did.  It took him a long time to finish eating, in short, but he looked happy.  When everyone had cleaned up—wow, Tae bending down over the sink to brush his little girl’s teeth definitely made you feel things—the kids were allowed to play for a bit longer before nap time.  Everything had been going so well—only J-Hope’s kid was ornery about brushing his teeth, and a teacher quickly came over to redirect him—but you knew most kids didn’t like nap time, so you were a little worried.  The teachers were getting out blankets and laying them down in a line, and you watched as Jimin and Tae’s girls led the two boys to their blankets and immediately laid down.  Jimin gave his little girl a kiss on the forehead and nuzzled her nose, causing her to giggle.  Jin’s girl didn’t seem to want to let go of him, but he was adamant in placing her down and covering her up but not leaving her side.  J-Hope, as expected by this point, had the hardest time with his kid, who did not seem to want to sleep.  In fact, the boy started to cry, and you watched as J-Hope sat on his blanket and took the boy into his lap.  Touching his forehead to the little boy’s, he spoke softly to him, and your heart melted a bit.  Tae was soon lying down next to his little girl, and you hoped he didn’t roll over her if he fell asleep.  The boy with Yoongi also didn’t seem to want to sleep until he saw Yoongi lying down on his mat.  He tried to move Yoongi by rolling him, but he couldn’t, and Yoongi watched him through half-open eyes, seeing if the kid was upset.  He was amused, if nothing else, and then climbed on top of Yoongi.  The little boy was giggling, but he stopped as you saw Yoongi put a hand on his back and slowly pull him down.  Soon the boy was on his stomach, lying on Yoongi, falling asleep.  Namjoon’s little girl really couldn’t stop looking at him, and he ran his hand through her hair several times until she fell asleep.  Jungkook, whose little girl wouldn’t let go of his hand, leaned down to curl up next to her and his low voice was heard singing to her.

Watching the boys, you didn’t think your heart could get any fuller until you noticed Woo climbing into your lap.  He wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and pressed himself into you, and you placed your arms around him, supporting his back and neck.  You rocked back and forth a few times until his breath seemed to slow.  Woo seemed to be the last to go to sleep, so several of the boys were looking your way as you held him, and you couldn’t help but smile back and whisper,

            “Oh my god, _he’s so cute._ ”  Once you were sure he was asleep, you placed him down on his mat and covered him up, unable to resist placing a quick kiss on his forehead.  As all of the other kids were asleep, you and the boys all filed out of the room, bowing to the teachers as you went.  You gathered up back outside and took off the aprons, handing them back to their staff.   In front of the camera again, everyone debriefed, sharing what surprised them most or what they learned. 

            “ _Ah, I wanted to nap with them,_ ” Yoongi said.  J-Hope kept shaking his head back and forth, a huge grin on his face.

            “ _My kid wouldn’t stop moving around!_ ”

            “ _All the babies were so cute,_ ” Jimin saying, his hands squishing his own face.

            “ _They are really smaller than I thought they would be,_ ” Namjoon said, his face showing his dimples.  “Ah, B, what did you think?”

            “Ah, _I want a kid,_ ” you said, pressing your lips together in a smile.  Later people would slow down, replay, and analyze the look that each boy gave you individually.  Tae licking his bottom lip, Yoongi’s mouth curly upwards, Namjoon laughing through his nose once because he thought you were kidding but realized quickly that you weren’t, Jin eying you up and down, Jimin looking away from you, J-Hope’s tiny step he made toward you even though he was already the closest to you, and Jungkook’s smile dying for a moment as his eyes narrowed.  But at the moment you only felt a collective stare, so you quickly added, “Jungkook surprised me.  I sometimes forget he’s a man.”  That wasn’t the right thing to say.  ARMY would completely mishear that.  “I mean, he did really well.  And Jin really looked like a dad, which I honestly wasn’t expecting, as he doesn’t always act his age.”  That certainly wasn’t the right thing to say, either!  Fans would kill you over the word “dad.”  You inwardly groaned while Namjoon laughed and translated, and the youngest defended himself by saying,

            “ _I really didn’t know what to do.  They were so little, but I was surprised how much they could do on their own._ ”

            “ _I’m not surprised my kid loved me immediately,_ ” Jin said.  “ _I would make a great dad._ ” 

            “ _I hope we can come again,_ ” Tae was saying, and all the boys were nodding and agreeing as you all said farewells.

            But the day’s activities weren’t quiet over, as Mina texted you on the way back with the boys to the studio.  Apparently, they were going to judge the photos you had taken yesterday and select their favorite one.  These day was too good, honestly, as you enjoyed taking those photos and were really proud of you.  You couldn’t wait to see what the boys thought of them.  To top it all off, there was food waiting for you all when you got back to the studio.  Everyone crowded around a big table and dove in.  You sat back and waited until the boys had all started eating so they could make sure they got what they want first before Jin stuck a piece of chicken in your face.

            “ _Ya, oldest should eat first._ ” Slightly offended, even though he was right, you took the chicken while frowning at him.  He only laughed at you and ate a bite himself.  Your hunger overruled any manners, however, and you were quickly elbowing Jungkook out of the way so you could get what you wanted.

            After lunch you moved into the room with the glass walls.  The boys were going to be filmed, so you sat off screen watching, realizing you were nervous now.  You weren’t really sure why they were judging your photos, and you really wanted them to like them.

            The first photo was one you’d chosen of the icecream you and Jisung had gotten from the sweet shop owner.  It wasn’t really food, more dessert, but yours was half eaten and Jisung’s was melting down your hand.  They were both in focus, your hands wrapped around them, and in the background was the blurry image of the lady, framed in her shop’s door.

            “ _That looks delicious,_ ” Jimin said, and everyone was commenting on how good ice-cream was on a hot day.  Tae noted the focus of the shot, and then the next picture came up.

            It was a picture of one of the dogs from the café; a simple shot, nothing special, but it was crisp, and getting one of the dogs to stay still was difficult.  The shot was focused on the dogs nose, and you could tell the dog was happy.  Soon the dog owners around the table were talking about missing their own dogs.

            Another simple picture was of a tree.  The instructions had been “under a tree,” so while you weren’t in the picture, you took it from under a tree.  The shot looked up at the tree through its branches, the blue sky contrasting with the dark limbs.  You loved taking pictures of trees like this, as it looked like you were lying down looking up, and Namjoon noticed how good the picture would be in black and white.

            Your flower picture you weren’t too impressed with; the focus was good, and the flowers were clear and colorful.  They were beautiful, and so was the picture, but it was nothing special.

            Mina had saved the last three pictures for ones that actually included you, you noticed.  First, there was a wide shot with trees and greenery on both sides, a bridge in the middle going across a small pond.  The bridge was made of white brick that was fading, and it was covered in ivy on its left side.  A lone silhouette of a figure was crossing the bridge.  It was you.  You had cheated a bit; you had instructed Jisung on how to frame the shot and then walked back and forth several times from the bridge to him until you were satisfied with the shot.  The boys seemed to like this one, and you found yourself smiling.

            The next picture was of the required “wall art.”  Jisung had taken this one, as well, as you stood in front of a bright yellow wall with the abstract painting of a black fish curled above you.  Its head seemed to be leaning down toward where yours was.  Your white and black striped shirt contrasted well and pop against the color, and one of your hands was playfully messing with your hair, while you were smiling so widely that your eyes were squinted shut.  You found yourself looking at it now with your mouth a little open.  You hadn’t realized how happy you looked.

            “ _Wow,_ ” J-Hope said, “ _this one’s really good!  I love the colors!_ ”

            “ _She looks really happy,_ ” Jimin said, and several boys agreed.  You didn’t make eye contact with any of them, knowing they were being filmed, but you were positively beaming.

            Finally, the last picture came on the screen, and the mood of the room became more solemn.  Again, Jisung had taken this one.  It was another one of his candid shots that you hadn’t planned at all and he had sent you.  The sun was setting, the sky a smear of red and orange, and you had your knees pulled to your chest, your skirt resting against your legs.  Your chin was resting on your arms that draped your knees, and you were looking off at something.  What?  You wondered that now.  There was something about your eyes in this picture that made you remember how lonely you had felt watching the sun set.

            “ _Now she looks sad,_ ” you heard Yoongi say softly.  There was almost a hint of sarcasm in his voice, like he was trying to make a joke but knew it was nothing to joke about.

            “ _It definitely has a wistful vibe to it,_ ” Namjoon said, his finger on his chin as if he was thinking hard about something. 

            “ _I think it’s beautiful,_ ” Tae said, his voice low.  You looked at him as he said this, but as he was already looking at you, you turned away.

            “ _Alright,_ ” you heard Mina say, “ _please vote on your favorite one._ ”  The boys quickly wrote down their choices on a slip of paper and handed them back to Mina.  You noticed Jungkook was the only one who seemed to have a hard time deciding.  In a minute Mina cleared her throat and turned to the screen, where the winning photo was still up.  “ _The sunset picture has the most votes._ ”

            “ _Ah, I loved the mural one!_ ” J-Hope said.

            “ _It was the pessimists versus the optimists,_ ” Yoongi said, laughing.

“ _Who picked the sunset_?” Jungkook said, and Namjoon raised his hand.  You could understand most of what was going on, but at this point Mina signaled to the boys to stop, and the camera was turned off.  Furrowing your brows, you cocked your head at Namjoon.

            “I had suggested you take a sunset picture.  So, you helped me win because everyone thought that was the best photo,” Namjoon explained to you from across the table.

            “Ah.  What do you get?”

            “You’ll see later,” Namjoon said, smiling.  Okay.  Cool.  That didn’t make you anxious or curious at all.  Trying not to over think it—good luck with that—you went back to the dorm to get some work done as the boys had practice the rest of the afternoon.  You decided to make dinner for them after asking Namjoon what time they’d be home, and as it wasn’t going to be past your bedtime, you asked Mina to send Jisung over with some supplies.

            Around seven o’clock he arrived, his arms laden with bags, and you helped him pile them onto the island.  After you thanked him, he was turning to go, but you stopped him.

            “Ah, _are you busy_?” as he shook his head and shrugged, you continued, “ _Could you help me?_ ”  Giving you a smile, he nodded, so for the next hour Jisung helped you cook, though you soon realized that you were actually helping him.  He was quiet and didn’t need to say much, just point or redirect you by moving your hand or handing you a different ingredient, but you enjoyed the peaceful and content feeling you got while cooking.  When it was almost eight, he washed he hands and said,

            “ _I’ll go now.  Good luck,_ ” and before you could stop him had bowed his way out the door.  As you hurried to get everything finished, the boys started to arrive, each making a comment about how good it smelled and about how good everything looked.  As you settled in for your second meal together of the day, you leaned against the couch next to Tae and sighed.  Tae noticed, and he leaned down from where he was sitting next to you and said,

            “You okay?” Your shoulders were already touching, and he had pressed against you when he asked.

            “ _Happy,_ ” you said, smiling up at him.

            “The kids make you happy?”  You nodded, your knees bouncing a bit in their crossed position.

            “ _I love kids,_ ” you said, still smiling.  “I wish I could have a kid.”  Your voice had softened.  Everyone was always telling you what a great mom you’d make one day.  How great you were with kids.  How children clearly loved you.  Even your friends knew you were the mom in the group, always responsible and looking out for everyone.  There were days you were just devastated you didn’t have a kid to love.  Tae’s hand had reached down to grab your knee, and you thought your bouncing had annoyed him.

            “ _You want a kid_?” he said. 

            “ _Yes.  Do you?_ ” you said, and he hesitated.  You wondered if he did because he wasn’t allowed to say such things.  He was still young, after all, and relationships were either forbidden or almost impossible at this point.  “ _You’d make a great dad,_ ” you said, and you were glad when a shy smile crossed his face.  His hand left your knee, and he cleared his throat before excusing himself.  You were left with Jungkook by you, and you sat back and simply observed and listened to the boys, remembering how amazing each of them had been with the kids today.  They would all make great dads one day.  You stayed leaning against the couch smiling at the idea of the boys being dads until you realized you would have to excuse yourself before they made you wash the dishes and ran away with a laugh to go to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If BTS filmed something like this, I would just die.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words. Mention of masturbation. Drinking (please drink responsibly, kids).  
> Ft. Jackson from GOT7 again.

**Day 15**

            Reading into things was what you were good at.  Overanalyzing was literary part of your job as a literature teacher.  Sometimes, you had to admit, you couldn’t simply enjoy a book or a movie or even a person because you were trying to figure out what every little thing meant.  For instance, why had Yoongi let you in his studio the other day?  Why had Namjoon let himself rest on your leg?  Why had Jungkook pulled you toward him in the club that night?  You kept telling yourself that there was nothing abnormal about any of these behaviors; these were clearly things they were used to doing with each other.  But you were not used to someone touching your hand or slinging an arm around you as you slept.  It’s not that you purposefully shied away from physical contact, it’s just that there weren’t many people in your life who you were comfortable with touching or being touched by.  And, if you were really honest, a part of you was still especially averse to boys touching you.  He had kind of ruined that for you years ago.  So, how could the boys understand that every time they touched you your mind went into overdrive and your heart panicked?  How could they understand that you wanted them to stop before you got used to it and started to look forward to it?  How could you tell them all of this without oversharing or offending them?

 

            Namjoon seemed like the guy to talk to about it, but you also wanted to just let it go.  To not overthink and to just let things happen as they were.  There were plenty of other things to do to distract yourself this summer.  So you’d exercise, read, plan lessons, go sight-seeing, study your Korean, anything to keep you from replaying Jimin pulling you close to dance or Jin placing a cool rag on your forehead or—yes, distractions were what you needed you told yourself as you put on your favorite black pants and comfortable yellow shirt with your new Puma shoes.

            “You look like a Hufflepuff,” Namjoon said over his cup of coffee when you walked into the kitchen.  You glanced down at your outfit and then started laughing.

            “Guess which house I’m in,” you said.

            “Uh, Ravenclaw?”

            “No, what,” you said, laughing again, “Hufflepuff, duh.  Why would you think Ravenclaw?”  Namjoon shrugged.

            “You’re really smart,” he said.

            “Nah,” you countered, distracting yourself from the way he was smiling at you to make yourself some tea.  J-Hope and Jimin came clamoring down the hall, and Namjoon pointed to J-Hope.

            “Here’s another Hufflepuff.”

            “ _What, what?_ ” J-Hope said, his eyebrows raised at the two of you.  Namjoon explained the reference and the other boy laughed.

            “He’s never read them,” Namjoon whispered to you as you sat down next to him.  He was leaning on his elbows, and his coffee breath was close enough to reach your face.

            “That’s a shame,” you said, trying not to be too dramatic, “but not surprising.  He’s probably been a little busy.”  You sometimes knew Namjoon was just the perfect gentleman because he smiled at your dumb jokes, like he was doing now.  As you distracted yourself by making breakfast without getting in the other boys’ way, you noticed Jungkook come sleepily into the kitchen, sans shirt once again.  As you cooked your eggs, you watched him out of the corner of your eye make coffee in the corner.  After he had poured his cup he turned around, his tired eyes meeting yours, and he froze.  Before he could run away, you held up your hand to stop him.

            “ _I don’t care,_ ” you said.  “Just _eat your breakfast._ ”  The boy looked from you to Namjoon, who was grinning at him.

            “ _Did she just tell me what to do?_ ” Jungkook said, which only made Namjoon and J-Hope laugh.

            “ _Listen to your elders,_ ” Jimin said with a straight face.  Still looking slightly uneasy, Jungkook came to turn on an eye near you and rummaged around for a pan.  It was mean, you know it was, and the total opposite of what you had told yourself this morning you would do, but you wanted to know, just like at the club, what would make him uncomfortable.  You needed to find Jungkook’s line, and the only way you could see doing that, as the boy didn’t seem to ever talk to you, was to be physical with him.  So, as you plated your eggs, you turned around and you brought your left hand up and poked his shoulder blade with one finger, saying,

            “Poke.”  His shoulder flinched backwards at your touch and he made a small grunting noise, but he didn’t look at you, so you giggled and sat down to eat your breakfast.  Jin had apparently left early that morning, so Yoongi was the last one to enter the kitchen, a concerned look on his face.

            “ _Tae is sick,_ ” he said.  You knew this word, and you watched as Namjoon stood up.  Jimin immediately stopped eating and walked down to Tae’s room without waiting for Yoongi to finish.

            “ _Did you let Seijin know_?” Namjoon said.

            “ _Yeah, yeah.  Tae says it’s not that bad, really; maybe just a cold.  He said Seijin said to rest until lunch and join us later if he’s up for it._ ”  Yoongi was casually pouring himself a cup of coffee as he explained, but Namjoon was pursing his lips.  Finally seeming to decide on what to do, he surprisingly turned to you.

            “Y/N, what are you doing today?”

            “Mina wanted me to come in for another interview later, so I will probably just go sightseeing this morning.”

            “Okay,” he said, chewing on his lip.

            “Why?” you said.  “Just spit it out.”

            “Ah, would you mind sticking around?  Just in case Tae needs anything or gets worse?”

            “Oh,” you said, honestly a little touched and glad to feel needed, “I don’t mind.  Of course I’ll stay.”

            “Thanks,” Namjoon said, clearly relieved.  When Jimin came back looking very concerned, Namjoon explained the plan to him, and while he looked a little hesitant about you staying with Tae, he relented when he understood it wasn’t an option, it was just what was going to happen.  Wishing them a good day, you went to take off your shoes and grab a book to read as the boys headed out.

 

            The door to Yoongi and Tae’s room was open, but you knocked gently anyway to announce your presence and entered the dark room quietly, hoping Tae was asleep. As you placed a cup of water on his bedstand, his eyes fluttered open, and, upon seeing you, he smiled.

            “ _Hi,_ ” you said, smiling down at him.  He looked extremely comfortable wrapped up in all of his blankets with only his face peeking out.  His low voice greeted you in return.  “ _Don’t feel well_?”

            “ _No,_ ” he said, sticking his lips out in a pout.  Trying not to laugh at him, you sat down on the floor next to his bed.

            “ _Need anything_?” you said.  He shook his head, so turned around to lean against his bed and started to read your book.  He must have been watching you, because you heard him rustling and looked up to see him reaching over to turn on the lamp.

            “ _Bad for your eyes,_ ” he muttered before slumping back into his pillows.  You weren’t sure for how long you sat there, distracted by your book.  If Tae seemed to move or make what sounded like sounds of discomfort you would look up to check on him, but all in all he seemed to be fighting off whatever he had by simply sleeping.  It was only when he started to make repetitive, consecutive quiet little groans that you put your book down and turned around on your knees to look at him.

            “Tae?” you said.  His eyes were closed, and he was curled up in a ball, but you could see him shudder every few seconds.  Your concern rose immensely as you reached out your hand to touch his forehead.  “You’re freezing,” you whispered, and for some reason you looked around the room.  Should you get him another blanket?  Was there a space heater nearby?  “Shit,” you said, wondering if you should call Namjoon.  You knew what would probably help, but you looked around the room again before you did it.  Really hoping there weren’t any hidden cameras around, you circled Tae’s bed so that his back was to you, and taking a deep breath, hoping and praying this was the right thing to do, you gently lifted up his blanket and lowered yourself onto his bed beside him.  He groaned once and shifted a little, but he couldn’t seem to form any words at the moment.  Pulling the blanket back down, you pulled it close to not let any air escape and without another thought threw your right arm around Tae and pulled yourself close to him so that you were pressed against his back.  When he groaned again, you shushed him and brought your left arm up over his head to message his scalp.  You had no idea if Tae liked people touching his head, but it always made you feel better, and he wasn’t pushing you away.  Granted, he may have been too weak to make you stop at the moment, but you tried not to think about it.  Instead you pulled him closer and wrapped one of your legs around his, trying to make him as warm as possible. 

            You don’t know how long you lay there, but you found yourself struggling to stay awake.  Slowly Tae’s shaking seemed to be subsiding, and his groans were lessening.  Only when he began to move and wiggle away from your grasp did you begin to think you had gone too far.  But in a second he was out of the bed and flying to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.  In another second you understood why as you heard him throwing up.

            “Shit,” you said, untangling yourself from the bed sheets and hurrying to the bathroom door.  He thankfully hadn’t locked it, so you let yourself in even though he waved a hand behind him to ward you away.  Ignoring him, you started to open cabinets and look for a rag or towel.  Finding a suitable one, you rinsed it and wrung it out.  Placing it on the counter, you pulled the hair out of Tae’s face as he heaved again.  When he sat back, you placed the rag on his forehead and placed his hand on it.

            “ _Hold this,_ ” you said, and he leaned his head against the wall, his arm holding the rag limply.  His eyes were shut, and he took several deep breaths as you started to clean up.  When you had done what you could, you squatted down next to him and removed the rag.  Feeling his forehead, your heart started to race as he was now burning up.

            “Shit,” you said again, pulling out your phone.  You sent a quick text to Namjoon about what had happened and then placed it on the counter out of the way.  “Tae,” you said, but he didn’t open his eyes, sweat pouring down his face, “you’re burning up.  You need to take a cold shower.”  But he didn’t seem to want to move, so you reached over and started to unbutton his pajama shirt.  You got through four buttons, half way down his chest, when he realized what you were doing.  His eyes opened weakly and he pushed your hand away.  Glaring up at him, you paused for a second.  “ _You do it,_ ” you said, but when he didn’t move you continued.  He kept trying to weakly push your hand away, but you brushed him off.  Only when he groaned out what sounded like an angry “Stop” did you grab his hand and stare into his face.

            “ _No,_ ” you said, “ _you stop._   _I’m trying to help._ ”  He looked at you now with such a sad look that you felt your heart break a little, but his arms hung limply by his side, so you finished unbuttoning his shirt.  “ _Up,_ ” you said, standing up, and you reached your hands down to him.  Still looking into your eyes, he let you pull him to his feet.  He swayed for a moment, so you held onto his hands until he got his bearings, and then you reached up to his shoulders to pull his shirt off.  Despite how hot his skin was, he seemed to shiver, and he watched silently as you squatted down again, gently pulled on his pants, and slid them down his legs.  You felt one of his hands rest on your shoulder as you did this, and you stood up as quickly as possible.

            “ _Out,_ ” you said, taking his hand and bringing him closer to the bathroom.  He lifted one foot and then another out of his pants, watching your face.  “ _In,_ ” you said, pointing to the bath, and he held onto your hand as he lifted one leg and then another.  Letting him go, you reached for the shower nozzle, only to then noticed Tae standing in the shower with nothing but his underwear on.  “Uh, _sit,_ ” you said, giving him a small smile.  He obeyed, holding onto the edge of the tub as he did, and you turned on the water.  The cold water hit his back and he shivered visibly, but he relaxed and let it wash over him.  Turning away for a moment, you rifled through the drawer that you assumed was Tae’s—it was less organized than Yoongi’s—and pulled out a toothbrush.

            “ _Yours?_ ” you said, and when he nodded you put some toothpaste on it and brought it to him.  Still sitting in the bath, the cold water trickling down his head and bare chest, Tae took the toothbrush and brushed his teeth.  Once he had spit, he handed the brush back to you and smiled weakly.  Giving him a big smile back, you returned the toothbrush, closed the toilet seat, and sat down.  You don’t know how long you sat there watching the water run down Tae’s back, but your reverie was broken as you heard the dorm’s front door opening and someone tramping down the hall.  Soon Seijin was in the bathroom, looking between you and Tae.  You jumped to your feet and gave him a bow, unsure of what to say or do.  You had met Seijin a couple of times, but he frankly intimidated you, as you couldn’t read his stoic face very well.  And while there was nothing going on except you helping a sick friend, you were afraid what he might say.  He seemed about ready to say it, too, but Tae stopped him.  Seijin looked angry, though, and you felt unwanted, so you removed yourself from the bathroom.  Grabbing your book on the way out, you went to put your shoes on.  Texting Jisung for a ride, you grabbed your backpack and water and left the dorm.

 

            As you waited for Jisung you realized you felt angry.  All you had done was what Namjoon asked.  And you let him know when Tae was obviously getting worse.  Seijin should be thanking you, not doing whatever he was doing.  You were glad when Jisung arrived, as you always were happy to see him, and grateful when he opened your door and helped you into the car.  You stared out the window on the way to the studio, wondering what Mina had to ask you about today.  The boys saw you when you came in and waved you over.  You hesitated, really not wanting to explain everything that had happened, so when Namjoon asked how Tae was, you said,

            “Seijin is with him,” and gave them all a wave before you walked away.  As your back turned to them, you knew it was rude.  You knew they were concerned about Tae, but Seijin would tell them how he was.  You tried to distract yourself with thinking about what questions Mina had for you, even though this just made you more anxious.

 

            When you left an hour later, you were somehow even angier than when you went in.  So angry you wanted to break something, and you rarely got that angry.  The most rash and foolish thing you had ever done in anger was throw your phone across the room.  Retelling that story was embarrassing—because who does that?—but in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that crazy.  Now you wanted to walk into on-coming traffic or get shit-faced even though it wasn’t even 2PM.  Jisung was in the reception area waiting for you and he stood up when he saw you coming.  You think you heard someone—Jin?—say your name, too, but you walked right out the front door, ignoring them all.  Once outside you just started walking with no destination in mind.  You needed a distraction.  You wanted food.  So much food you could have a reason to hate yourself.  You wanted to text him.  A sick laugh left your mouth when you heard Jisung following behind you.  What the fuck were you even doing here?  You spun around and he stopped a few feet away from you.

            “What do you want?” you almost yelled.  “ _What?_ ”  The big man looked stunned, and, surprise, surprise, didn’t say anything.  “Where’s your phone?” you said.  “ _Phone, phone?_ ”  You took a hard step toward him and threw out your hand.  Understanding, he put his phone in your hand.  Why did he trust you so easily?  It pissed you off.  “ _Open this,_ ” you said, and he unlocked it.  Unable to read most of the icons, you looked for his picture folder.  “Did you keep those pictures of me?  Delete them.  Delete this,” you said, finding the picture of you in front of the sunset from a couple of nights ago.  He took his phone back and stared at you.  Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your phone to a translator and typed in “delete this.”  As it read it out in Korean, Jisung’s eyes narrowed, but he seemed to comply.  Spinning around again, you continued down the sidewalk, the sully man following behind you.  With each step your anger seemed to be subsiding, but it was just turning into despair. 

            “ _I want a drink,_ ” you said, and Jisung had the gall to pull out a bottle of water.  “ _A drink,_ ” you repeated.  Frowning, he grabbed your hand to lead you somewhere, but you yanked it away.  But you followed him.  It definitely weirded you out how available alcohol was in Seoul, even during the day, but you really didn’t care at the moment.  You got some soju and found a park to sit in.  Jisung sat near you, but you were just going to ignore him at this moment.  Ready to make some dumb decisions, you pulled out your phone and debated who to text.

            “Hey, do you still have questions?” you texted Jackson and took another swig from the bottle in your hand.  It was a shame today was another beautiful day.  Seoul summers were better than your autumns back home, and you loved the weather.  But even the sky looked looming and oppressive as the clouds moved above you.

            “Hey you,” Jackson had texted back.  “Yes.  Ready?”

            “Shoot,” you said.  You hadn’t wanted to answer whatever he question had earlier because, on the one hand, you were embarrassed.  On the other hand, you thought how he could screenshot something, reveal it later, and embarrass the boys of BTS.  But none of that mattered, now, so you would say whatever you wanted.

            “How do you do it with nothing?”  You rolled your eyes but answered anyway.

            “Do you have to watch something to jack off?”

            “No, but there’s plenty of material in my head.”

            “Gross,” you texted back.

            “Really really you need nothing?”

            “Really really.  It’s a really useful skill,” you texted, smirking at your absurdity. 

            “Who do you picture?”

            “No one,” you texted.  “Don’t need to.”

            “Makes no sense,” Jackson sent back.  You laughed and took another drink.

            “Any other questions?”

            “What’re you doing?”

            “Drinking.”

            “Drinking??”

            “Shit day,” you texted back.

            “Yikes, are the boys being nice?” Jackson sent.  You scoffed, and in your anger you almost told him.  Almost.

            “Totally.  It’s just me.  I better get back to it.”

            “To drinking?” Jackson sent, but you didn’t reply.  Instead, as you took another sip, your finger opened up your camera.  Turning it around you took a couple of selfies.  Your cheeks were already red from the alcohol.  Maybe it would pass as sunburn.  Without thinking, you posted it to your Instagram story and took another sip.  Turning to Jisung, you said,

            “Were you in on this the whole time?  You were okay with it?  I thought you were cool.”  He gave you a smile, and you rolled your eyes.  He really didn’t know any English.  You decided you want to drink without his judgmental stare, so you pulled out your map app and plugged in the directions to the dorm.  It was almost an hour of a walk away, but you didn’t mind, needing to waste time and still blow off some steam.  Maybe you could see more of the city this way, too.  Before you were even back to the dorm someone had replied to your picture on Instagram.  It was him.  Your heart and stomach both flipped for different reasons.  You looked at his comments—he had simply sent four face-with-heart-eyes emojis—and back at your picture.  Shit, you actually looked a little bit seductive.  You deleted it immediately, forgetting some of your students might see it.  But you looked at those stupid heart-eye emojis and wondered what the fuck he was doing sending those.  Seriously, how dare he.  You weren’t even halfway to the dorm when you remembered.

            “Jisung,” you said, turning around again to face him.  “ _Take me home?_ ”  He cocked his head at you, and you shook yours, your head that already felt dizzy.  “ _Your home._ ”  Jisung looked down at you and took a step closer to you.  When you looked up at him, you thought for a moment that he would deny you.  It was one moment only, but it was a moment full of dread.  It would confirm everything you thought about yourself.  And in another moment you wanted him to say no because you didn’t want his pity, and you were mad at him, too, but you couldn’t go back to the dorm.  But he reached down to take your hand, and he lead you along.  He lead you down the sidewalks and through each block, back to the car, and then down more streets, and you took a few more drinks even though he watched you each time, and he pulled up into a crowded street and got out, and opened the door for you, and helped you get down, which you needed, as you now felt pretty tipsy, and lead you up a flight of stairs to a door.

            And then you were sitting on his mattress, watching him cook you food, and you took drank some more, kicking off your shoes and curly up on his bed, the alcohol and noodles warming your entire body until you fell into an uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are worried about you, and they have something to confess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 16**

            The boys were worried, though they were each trying to hide it in their own way.  You hadn’t come home last night.  It’s not that they doubted your ability to take care of yourself, you were a grown, capable adult, after all, but you were, in a way, their responsibility.  Your wellbeing was their concern.

            “ _Maybe I got her sick,_ ” Tae said, still looking sick and tired and biting his lip as they all sat around a table at the studio.

            “ _Maybe,_ ” Namjoon said, but not everyone agreed.

“ _Maybe she got kidnapped,_ ” Jungkook said.  He had meant it jokingly, but it really wasn’t something to joke about, so nobody laughed.  Yoongi was particularly surprised you hadn’t even texted him back, and he sat staring at his phone.  When Mina and Seijin entered the room, she looked a little disheveled while he seemed as stoic as ever.  Greeting the boys, Mina sat up the camera and attached another one to the TV in front of them.

            “ _Where’s Y/N_?” Tae said immediately.

            “ _She’s with Jisung._ ”  The boys looked around the table at each other.

            “ _Uh,_ ” Jin said.

            “ _He assures me she is fine.  I had my second interview with Y/N yesterday.  I’d like to share it with you and get your thoughts.  Maybe it will clarify her actions last night,_ ” she said.

            “ _Does she know we’re seeing this one?_ ” Yoongi said.

            “ _No, as I explained last time,_ ” Mina began, but Namjoon cut her off.

            “ _Okay, just show us._ ”  Nodding, Mina played the video.

 

            “So how has your second week been in Korea?”  Once again you sat across from Mina, a camera trained on you, your bright yellow shirt contrasting nicely with your dark hair.  You remembered to look at Mina, not the camera, and to do your best being honest.  After Seijin had gotten mad at you earlier for helping to take care of Tae, you weren’t in the best mood, but you didn’t want that to be that obvious, so you planned to smile as much as possible.

            “ _Awesome!_ ”  You hoped Mina would catch on that you were going to need her to ask more questions today, as you weren’t feeling too open.         

            “What’s been your favorite part?”

            “My favorite part this week was definitely the Run episode.  We got to go to a nursery and help take care of some little kids for a bit.  I haven’t babysat in awhile, so I was really happy to be around the kids.  They were so cute and tiny, ah!  And watching the boys interact was really special.  I’m pretty sure their fans will go crazy over that episode when it airs.  It was really too cute.”

            “You said Jin and Jungkook surprised you?  What about the other boys?”

            “Well, Namjoon looked the most out of place, but purely because of his size.  I think he was so concerned about not hurting the little ones that he wasn’t really comfortable.  But he loosened up, I think.  And Jimin clearly loves kids.  He had this huge grin the whole time as if he was in awe at everything they did.  Like I said, it was really adorable.”

            “Speaking of Jimin, he danced with you this week.”  At first you thought you meant at the club, but you wanted to assume Mina didn’t know about that, so you blinked, trying to remember before that.  “Would you consider yourself a dancer?”           

            “Oh, no, not at all.”

            “But you know some of the boys’ choreography?”

            “Hardly,” you said, laughing.  “My friends and I last summer learned from of the dances.  They’re really hard if you’re not trained.  I don’t have any dance experience, so I don’t consider myself a good dancer or even a dancer.  Dance really does fascinate me, though, so I am easily impressed and find myself able to watch people dancing for hours.  It mesmerizes me, you could say,” you ended lamely, trying to forget that night at the club.  Jimin’s hands on our waist and a wicked smile on his face.  Forget that.

            “How was the picture scavenger hunt?”

            “Oh,” you said, excited.  “I loved the picture scavenger hunt.  The boys each came up with something they wanted me to take a picture of, so I did my best to find good shots.  I got to see more of the city and overall enjoyed another great day.  I’m really proud of some of the pictures I got.  The boys particularly liked the one of the sunset I took.  I can’t wait to share them with everyone back home.”  Mina nodded and then asked,

            “Could you tell me a little about what happened the day we went clothes shopping?”  You took a deep breath.  You could be really personal.  Or you could be superficial.  You could lie.  Or tell the truth.  You thought suddenly of who might watch this one day.  You thought of someone who might also hate shopping and her own body.  And, while you didn’t look at the camera, you spoke to that person.

            “Mm, I’m not a huge fan of shopping.  I have a sort of odd body shape that can be hard to fit.  My shape and weight are pretty different from the majority in Korea, too, if you can’t tell.”  You let out a light laugh, though it was pretty forced.  “There’s nothing wrong with being different.  I know that.  There’s nothing wrong with my body.  But if everyone around you looks one way, and you look different, you start to wonder what’s wrong with you.  If no clothes fit you, you begin to think you’re the problem.  That’s what shopping is like for me.  It’s easy to believe the lies the clothes tell us.  If they don’t fit, we think we’re fat.  If they look good on someone skinnier than us, we think we don’t deserve to wear them.  Things like that.  Lies like that.  Sizes are just numbers.  They’re really superficial.  I know that.  But I still end up hating myself when I can’t find things that fit.  I’m also intent on being modest, and that is hard these days as a young woman, so, yeah, I think overall the shopping experience just made me stressed, and I had a little bit of a meltdown.  I’m not ashamed to admit that,” you said, laughing again.  “I bet lots of people had cried when their favorite jeans no longer fit them or the one item they wanted didn’t come in their size.  They’re just clothes, but we carry a lot of our identity and thus our self-worth in what we wear.  That isn’t right, but it’s still what we do.”  You stopped, not wanting to say anymore for fear of getting emotional.  “I love shopping for books and food though,” you said, smiling.  Mina just nodded at you before continuing to the next question.

            “So which of the boys could you see yourself with?”  This again?  You once again floundered, looking at the camera and back to Mina.

            “Really?” you said.  “This again?”

            “It’s one of the questions.”

            “Who wrote these questions?” you said, but she didn’t respond.  “I don’t feel comfortable answering this question.”

            “Who do you feel you’re getting closer to, then?” Mina pressed, but you locked your jaw.  “What about Tae?”  She knew.  You knew she knew, and you bit the inside of your mouth once, swallowing.  It at least seemed like she knew.  You suddenly felt like you were in an interrogation room, and you wouldn’t admit your guilt unless you were accused and there was actual evidence, trying to ignore the sweat collecting on your brow.  “What happened on the 10th?”  You inhaled and exhaled, staying quiet.  “You went to Tae’s room?”  Still, nothing.  “And slept with him?”  There it was.  You sighed, imaging the shitstorm about to head your way.  The shitstorm that fans would have if they saw this interview and heard that word.  The connotation behind that word with no context…

            “Nothing happened,” you finally said.  Mina’s eyebrows raised.  “I accidentally fell asleep on Tae’s bed.  I did not sleep with him.  He did not sleep with me.”

            “But you were—”

            “I was on top of his bed, yes.  When I woke up later I went back to my room.  It was an accident.  It won’t happen again.  Everyone sleeps.  Sometimes they fall asleep in places they don’t mean to.  There was no harm meant by it.”  You felt annoyed.  You had been pretty positive this was going to come up, especially after Yoongi had woken you up and had such a mad look on his face, especially since he had warned you to be careful.  “Am I…” you hesitated, realizing Mina may be trying to break the news to you slowly or something.  “Did this break a rule?”

            “Well, not technically speaking, not one specifically written down.”

            “But?” you said, hearing it in her voice.

            “Well, what happened on the night of the 9th?”  You froze.  There was only one way she could know about that…But you didn’t want to believe Tae had tattled on himself just to get you in trouble.  Unless he had regretted it.  Or was also afraid of getting in trouble.  “Tae came into your room?”  Once again you remained quiet.  This time your brow was furrowed, and you could feel your cheeks color as your anger rose.  “And fell asleep.  So, you also slept with him that night.”  It wasn’t a question.  She knew.

            “Once again, this is not entirely true.  I did not fall asleep, so therefore he did not sleep with me.  Tae slept in my bed.  I went to sleep on the couch.”  Mina nodded slowly, and you thought the interview was over.  You were mad.  She was treating like you were in trouble, but you weren’t, so you didn’t know what the point of bringing this up was.  But Mina apparently wasn’t done.

            “And today?” 

            “What about today?” you snapped.  “What did I do wrong today?”

            “Seijin said when he arrived Tae was almost naked in the shower.”

            “But was he naked naked?” you said, and your question seemed to surprise Mina.

            “No.”

            “Right.  And was I, I don’t know, also almost naked or naked?”

            “No,” Mina said.

            “And was he almost naked”—this word really didn’t fit well on your tongue, especially as you were trying not to picture almost-naked Tae in the shower—“just for the heck of it, or was there a reason behind his semi-nudity?” You almost laughed at the word, but Mina shook her head again.  “No.  Here’s what happened today, Mina,” you said her name harshly in a demeaning tone.  “Namjoon, as the leader of BTS and thus of Tae in many ways, asked me if I could stay behind in the dorm to look after Tae.  He was feeling sick, but Yoongi specified that it didn’t seem too serious.  I agreed, because I have nothing better to do.  What am I even here for?” You knew this was absurd; you knew you were here to teach the boys English, and you knew this was just your own insecurity lashing out, but you were mad. 

            “So I sat by Tae’s bed to make sure he didn’t get worse or didn’t need anything.  I soon noticed that he was freezing.  My belief is he was sicker than the others thought and was fighting something off.  In the spur of the moment, I decided to use my body heat to warm him up.  Maybe no one’s ever lain next to you,” you said, and wow, you were being way too personal, but you didn’t care, “but human beings can be really warm, so I tried my best to warm him up.  Should I have told Namjoon that Tae was shivering?  I guess so.  Should I have sat there and watched him get probably worse?  I guess so.  But I couldn’t do that at the moment, so I did what I thought was best.  Then he got up to throw up.  I helped him and cleaned him up and texted Namjoon then because I thought it was serious enough to let him know about.  By that point Tae was sweating profusely, which is pretty common after throwing up, but he seemed to be burning up all over, so I helped him get out of his clothes.  Yes, I striped Kim Taehyung of his clothes because he was very weak.  Did I touch him inappropriately?  Did I take advantage of him?  No.  No.  I did nothing wrong.  I was simply trying to help.  I ran cold water over him and helped him brush his teeth.  All I cared about was making sure Tae got better.  I do not know why you or Seijin or whoever is upset, as I literally only did what I was asked.  I let someone know when it seemed like Tae was worse.  I don’t know what I did wrong,” you finished, taking a deep breath.  Mina didn’t answer, and you sat in silence for a moment.  Finally, unable to bear it, you said,

            “Did Tae tell you about the 9th?  The night he slept in my bed?”

            “N—” Mina said.  It was a tiny word, it was a word she tried to cut off in the middle, it was a word you knew from the first sound out of her mouth, and suddenly your eyes widened.  Had someone else come into your room that night and seen you?  Impossible.  You had been awake the whole time.  If Tae didn’t tell anyone, then how would they have known…

            “Mina,” you said slowly, your stomach lurching.  You wondered if you could have already gotten sick from Tae from that morning.  “I need to see all of the papers I signed.  In English,” you said.  She looked confused, but only for a second before her professional demeanor returned.

            “I will get those for you tomorrow.”

            “Mina,” you said again, even slower this time as you tried to control your breathing.  “Is there a camera in my room?”  She didn’t need to answer.  The question hung long enough in the air for you to know the answer.  Your hand flew to your mouth and then to your forehead as you dropped your head.  You bit your lip and noticed your hand was shaking.  You really did feel like throwing up now.  How had you missed that in the paperwork?  Or was it not in the paperwork?  I mean, you couldn’t sue BigHit, you had no money, but your privacy had been so severely invaded that you felt sick.  Sick was an understatement.  Had part of your soul just left your body?  You were trying to remember how many times you had changed in your room and not the bathroom.  You felt disgusted.  And betrayed.  Licking your lips, you looked back up at Mina.

            “Please get me the paper work ASAP,” you said, and standing up, you took off your mic and laid it on the table.  Without another word, you walked out of the frame.

 

            The boys sat silent around the table, their eyes downcast or searching around the room or glancing at each other.

“ _Well, that explains it,_ ” Yoongi finally said, and the boys looked at him.  “ _I knew this was a bad idea._ ”  Several of them looked at their leader, waiting for him to answer, but he seemed lost in thought, so Tae spoke up, his voice low and shaking a little.

            “ _Damn it, Mina, Y/N hasn’t done anything wrong.  I keep messing up.  You kept fussing at her when she’s done nothing wrong.  She’s telling the truth about yesterday.  I told Seijin what happened the minute he showed up and she left.  Guys, I was really scared.  I haven’t been that sick in a while, especially since it happened so suddenly.  If she hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done._ ” He trailed off, hanging his head, and Jimin reached over to hold his hand.

            “ _We need to figure out what we’re going to tell her,_ ” Jin said, looking at Namjoon.  “ _Do we tell her we know?  Do we pretend like nothing’s happened_?”

            “ _You’re assuming she wants to come back,_ ” Yoongi said, sill staring down at his phone.  He had texted you again, and despite it being almost 11am, you hadn’t replied.

            “ _Mina,_ ” Namjoon finally said, looking up, “ _please have Jisung bring Y/N here, even if she doesn’t want to.  We need to sort this out, even if she doesn’t want to continue.  Did you get the papers as she asked?_ ”  Mina nodded, indicating to a folder on the table.  “ _Good.  And order us some food.  We’re gonna need it._ ”

 

            A glass of water lay by the bed, and you picked it up without thinking, looking at the blanket and one pillow on the wooden floor below you and then up at Jisung.  His back was to you as he shuffled around his tiny kitchen, humming.  Your heart plummeted—or maybe that was your stomach flipping from your hangover—why was he so nice to you?  Though you didn’t want to face the day, because it meant acknowledging that yesterday happened, you looked at your phone, wondering what other mistakes you had made in your drunken idiocy.  Thankfully you couldn’t find any evidence of any drunk texts or stupid selfies.  It was then you remembered Jisung reaching for your phone last night.  You have waved his arms at him dramatically, but when he put a bowl of soup in your hand you had quieted down immediately.  Now, you looked at the barrage of texts that had come in.  Your heart too pained to look at the ones from Yoongi, Namjoon, Tae, Mina, and an unknown number, you pulled up the conversation with Jackson, which had the most unread texts.

            “Do you need a drinking partner?” Jackson had texted after your refusal to respond to him.  And then another text, “I mean, it can’t be me, I’m super busy.  But get Namjoon or someone.”  After a few more minutes a third text said, “Though he probably shouldn’t drink during the day.  Neither should you.”  Then “Hey, where are you?” and “are you okay?” and finally, “I have more questions, so pick up.”  Apparently he had called you twice.  You felt terrible, because it seemed like he was genuinely concerned, and he barely even knew you, so you moved your fingers quickly to send him a text.

            “Sorry to worry you,” you said, and then added “What questions do you have?  I’d be happy to answer any.”  You only had time to read the one text from Mina—“Y/N, where are you?  The boys are worried.”—before Jackson replied,

            “Oh! No questions, just figured it would get your attention.  Have you talked to Namjoon? He’s really worried.”  Namjoon?

            “What do you mean?” you sent back, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

            “He told me what was happening.  About the cameras.  It’s pretty fucked up.”  Oh.  Now even Jackson knew.  Your stomach flipped again.  Namjoon had gone as far as asking Jackson where you were.  “You know it wasn’t his idea, right?” he sent, and deep down you had to admit you agreed.

            “Yeah,” you responded, and then looked at the texts from Namjoon.

            “We’re having dinner at the dorm tonight; hope you make it,” he had sent at 6PM.  “Tae’s feeling much better.  Told me what happened.  Thank you for your help,” sent at 7:32PM.  “Y/N, are you coming home?” at 9:48PM.  And this morning at 8:04AM, “Where are you?”  You sighed and leaned your head back against the wall.  It made a light thump, and Jisung turned around in the kitchen.  Seeing you were awake, he gave you a comforting smile.  Your guilt rising, you smiled back gently and then returned to your phone.  Tae’s messages were numerous, so you read them all at once, which took you awhile as you had to translate the ones in Korean.

            “Y/N, where did you go?…I’m feeling better now…Thank you for helping… _I told Seijin what happened._ He’s not mad…Come home, we can watch movies… _Did I get you sick?...Where are you?...Y/N? We’re having dinner…_ Let’s practice English!...Where are you?...Please come home.” You put your phone down again, rubbing your temples.  You were glad Tae was feeling better, really, but Mina’s questioning still had you feeling like you were in the wrong.  You looked at the unknown number next, and it took you a moment to read as it was all in Korean, so you automatically knew it was one of the boys.

            “ _Y/N? Tae is really worried about you.  He came in my room and woke me up, and he’s crying.  What happened?  Could you talk to him, please?  He’s clinging to me, and I want to sleep.  Thanks for taking care of him._ ” It was sent at 2:08AM, and as you translated it you noticed all of the honorifics in it.  It must be from Jungkook.  You sighed again, feeling more guilty as Jisung brought a plate of food over to you.  Crossing your legs, you bowed to him deeply and took the food with a grateful heart.  You thought about how to forgive the boys, but you found yourself unable to.  You wanted to think the best of them, so you had no explanation for why they had let this happen.  Jisung didn’t seem very talkative—when was he ever—so you returned to your phone to look at Yoongi’s texts, and each of them seemed so harsh.  They were just words, so you had no idea what feeling was behind them.  You were probably just projecting onto them.

            “Thanks for taking care of Tae,” he had sent yesterday afternoon.  “Are you walking without me?” he had sent after dinner last night followed by “Can I join you?”  Then his tone seemed to be angry after midnight.  “Tae is crying.  Where are you?  What happened?  Y/N?”  And this morning, his tone seemed calmer.  “Are you okay?...Come to the studio…Please…Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry.”  This last one surprised you.  It had just been sent a few minutes ago, and you were surprised at how late in the day it was already.  You felt bile rising in your throat at his apology, but you pushed it down.  No way were you going to waste this food Jisung had made you.  As you finished, your phone buzzed again, and a text from Mina appeared.

            “Please come to the studio.  The boys would like to talk.”  Your groan made Jisung look up from his plate at you, his face full of concern.  Without a word he took your glass to refill it with water.

            “Did you know?” you said, your hand touching his briefly as you took the cup.  His pursed lips and raised eyebrows made you think he didn’t know what you were saying, so you shook your head.  He raised a finger in the air and then turned to his dresser.  Pulling out a large white shirt, he handed it to you, and once again you bowed in gratitude.

            “ _Bathroom’s in there,_ ” he said, pointing around the corner, and you got up to go change.  Talking to the boys, and Mina, right now made you feel sick.  Or maybe that was last night’s alcohol.  Conflict and resolving conflict through communicating verbally in front of people was not your forte.  You hated it, in fact.  You preferred to be passive aggressive or pretend like nothing bothered you.  Faking feelings seemed so much easier than facing how upset you were.  But you were an adult, and you knew what the right thing to do was, even if you would hate every second of it.  You didn’t even care to look at yourself in the mirror as you stripped off your yellow shirt and put on Jisung’s white one.  It was so big it engulfed you, but you rubbed your arms up and down, grateful for a clean shirt.  You ran through what you would say in your head on the way to the studio, trying to imagine different scenarios, but ultimately you had no idea what to expect, and you willed yourself to listen before talking and to not let your anger and hurt rule you.  Easier said than done, you thought, laughing to yourself.

 

            The boys didn’t just acknowledge your presence by watching you through the glass walls, they stood up when you opened the door and gave you a small bow.  Their politeness made you laugh once through your nose.  Being gentlemen now seemed like an afterthought, like a child who only apologizes when he is caught.  He is sorry he got in trouble, not for breaking the plate or stealing the cookies or hitting his sister.  Mummering a good morning—because you aren’t a heartless person and wanted to attempt being professional—you took a seat opposite them and then looked at Mina sitting near Seijin, waiting for her to say something, freezing when you saw a camera facing all of the boys. 

            “It’s off.”  It was Namjoon who spoke first, his eyes following yours.  His voice was low, and he spoke slowly, like he was picking his words with care, but also because he needed Mina to translate everything he was saying for the rest of the boys.

            “Y/N,” he said, his hands held together in front of him on the table, “first, the boys and I are profusely sorry for what happened.”  He paused, and already you found yourself not sticking to your plan when you said,

            “What happened?” Namjoon looked surprised.  It’s not like you were clueless, you just wanted to hear it from him.

            “We are sorry you were filmed without your knowledge.”

            “Or consent,” you said, folding your arms in front of your chest.  You realized you were shaking already, the butterflies in your stomach a complete storm.  “Do you really realize what you did?”  You waited for Mina to translate and then you continued.  “You filmed me without my knowledge or consent.  Do you realize what that means?”  But the boys didn’t answer, most of them looking around uncomfortably.  “You gave me a room, let me believe it was a safe place, a place I could sleep and change and be myself in, and then you betrayed me.  You filmed me.  You have a permanent record of anything I did in that room for the past two weeks.  Do you understand what that means?”  If you were thinking about it, you would have laughed.  You were using your “teacher voice,” the one that only came out when you were so mad you couldn’t smile anymore.  Your tone was demanding and angry, and for the first time in your entire trip you remembered you were older than every boy there.  “I hope you’re all embarrassed.  I hope you’re uncomfortable.  You aren’t looking at me, so I assume you are.”  When Mina translated this, they all did look at you finally, but you could see it in their eyes.  “Good.  I hope you are.  Now try to imagine what I must be feeling,” you said, pressing your finger hard into your chest.  “Someone or someones has seen me naked without my knowledge or consent,” you stuttered, the butterflies slamming against you, wanting out.  “Don’t you understand what you’ve done?  How could you do that?”  You took a deep breath, and you couldn’t hide how it shook, and dropped your eyes to the table.

            “We haven’t seen anything, Y/N, I promise,” Namjoon was saying, and a part of you did feel relieved, but you still muttered,

            “That’s not the point, Namjoon.”

            “I know, I know, and we are so sorry.”

            “Fuck,” you said, staring across the table at him, “you read my application, didn’t you?”  He nodded.  “I had to answer all those questions about my sexual history, Namjoon, to make sure I wasn’t a risk to anyone’s health or to prove that I’m not a sex addict or something,” you scoffed again at the absurdity, and your voice was hard.  “Whatever the reason, I had to write on that paper that I was raped, Namjoon.  How can you not understand how important consent is to me?” 

            Mina, you heard, hesitated, but when she finally translated you saw the boys visibly stir.  You let that word, that fucking ugly word you hated with every fiber of your fucking being, sit in the air.  You kicked the butterflies back down, refusing to be let them keep you silent, and you stared hard at Namjoon.  In your peripheral vision, you looked at the other boys, wondering if they had known.  J-Hope’s face was completely serious, his brow furrowed and his eyes never leaving you.  Jin was hanging his head and staring into his lap at his hands.  Jungkook’s head was against the back of his chair, his eyes trained on the ceiling, and you could see his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply.  Yoongi’s gaze scared you; he looked so mad, and yet his eyes seemed to droop at the edges of them.  Mad and sad all at the same time.  Tae’s mouth was slightly open, his eyes wide but full of concern.  And Jimin.  You were a little taken aback by the tears running down his cheeks. 

            “What can I do, Y/N?” Namjoon almost whispered.

            “Just why?  _Why?_ ” you said.  The boy took a deep breath and glanced once at Mina and Seijin before answering.

            “The contest was BigHit’s idea.  We, the guys and I, had a lot of concerns with it.  The biggest issue was obviously going to be our privacy.  I’m sure you know how passionate our fans can be.  But the company insisted, and we talked about how to make it work.  We honestly weren’t sure, as no one’s ever done anything like this before.  But we’ve always striven to be different.  So when we finally all agreed to the rules and talked about what we could expect, the company added another element.  They wanted to make a show out of it.  They have all these things planned for the summer.”

            “And when were you going to tell me?”

            “Next week, or the next, honestly,” Namjoon said, and his voice was laced with concern.  “Honestly,” he said again, “I’m—” but he ended lamely.  For once he didn’t seem to have any words.

            “ _I think the company didn’t think the filming through,_ ” you heard a voice saying, and your gaze shifted to Yoongi, who was looking at you carefully.  He waited for Mina to translate and then continued.  “ _We’re all used to it,_ ” he indicated to boys around him, “ _but we weren’t when we first started.  And most of the time we were warned before being filmed.  And nothing is every released or aired without our knowledge or letting us see it first.  Y/N should have the same courtesy given to her._ ”

            “ _Of course, of course,_ ” Namjoon was saying.  “No more filming in your room, absolutely not, and only filming if you know about it, and only if you’re okay with it.”  He was rambling now, his words coming out too quickly.  You realized now his voice wasn’t just full of concern, it was laced with panic.  “Y/N, I, we, really want you to stay.  We want to make this right.  Please tell us what to do.”  You let out a tiny sigh and rubbed your eyes under your glasses.  A small voice in the back of your head whispered a doubt you had: Were they really sorry because they cared about you?  Or did they just want to avoid a scandal?  Your eyes were burning from your hangover and lack of sleep and the tears you apparently cried last night in Jisung’s bed as he rubbed your back.  Taking a deep breath, you looked at each of the boys, your eyes lingering on Jimin who was sniffling and staring at his lap.  Before answering, you opened up your backpack and pulled out the package of tissues you kept in one of the pockets.  Sliding them across to Jimin, you watched as he gingerly took them and wiped at his face.

            “ _I forgive you,_ ” you said, and Jungkook and Jin looked back at you.  “But I don’t know what to tell you.  I’m not being sent home?” You finally looked at Mina, and to your surprise, almost your horror, you noticed her eyes were red.  She shook her head as she finished translating what you had said.  “Okay.  I don’t know.  Can I stay somewhere else tonight?”  Mina nodded again.  “Okay.  Can I go pick up some things from the dorm?”  Another nod.  “And can we not have our English lesson today?”  All of the boys nodded at this.  “But you all have your homework.  Write in your journals.”  You attempted a weak smile, and you were glad to see Jin and J-Hope smile back at you.  “May I speak to Namjoon and Jimin alone for a moment?”  Namjoon nodded, standing up, and Jimin stood, too, his head still hanging low.  You opened the door for them and lead them down the hall a bit.  Feeling like you were at least out of the sight of the other boys, you gently took Jimin’s hands and brought him down to the ground until you were sitting across from each other.

            “ _Are you okay?_ ” you said, trying to look up into his face.  He nodded, but you saw another tear fall down his face, even though he tried to rub it away with his hand.  “Jimin,” you said softly, looking up at Namjoon before continuing.  He stood above you both, his hands in his pockets, and softly translated for the pair of you.  “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

            “ _What?  No,_ ” Jimin said, looking up at you, “ _No, I’m sorry.  It’s so awful, Y/N.  We hurt you so badly.  How can you forgive us?_ ”  You tsked, reaching out to hold one of Jimin’s hands in both of yours.  You caressed it gently, twirling the rings on his fingers.  “ _How could someone do that to you?  We’re just as bad as he is,_ ” Jimin said, chocking on his words.  You shook your head fiercely, squeezing his hand.

            “ _No, you aren’t, stop that._ That…” you struggled for the right word, “that guy was an ass.  You are not an ass.”  You suddenly laughed at the word, and Jimin smiled shyly.  “Jimin, you have a great heart,” you said, letting go of his hand to place one of yours gentle against his chest.  You could feel his heart beating against it, and he took a deep breath.  “I forgive you, you hear me?”  The boy nodded.  “ _No, I’m serious._ ”  He looked up at you, his head cocked.  “If you beat yourself up over this, I will hit you.”  He actually laughed when Namjoon translated for you, but he nodded again, more believably this time before helping you to your feet and wrapping you up in his arms.  He immediately stepped back, though, staring at the ground and muttering.  Namjoon clarified for you.

            “He said he should’ve asked first, that he’s an idiot for doing that.”  You punched Jimin’s shoulder, and his head leapt up to stare at you in surprise. 

            “ _What did I just say?_ ” His mouth opened as if to answer, but you put your arms around him and pressed your forehead into his chest.  It took him a few seconds to reciprocate the action, his small hands intertwining with themselves behind your back.  You opened your eyes to look at Namjoon, who gave you a small smile and a nod.  When his arms left you, you felt warmer and yet you still shivered as he bowed and headed back to the room.  Taking a deep breath, you gave Namjoon a wary smile and started to follow Jimin, but you only took one step past Namjoon when you heard him mutter your name.  You stopped, feeling his fingers on the bottom of your shirt rubbing the material back and forth between them.

            “Y/N,” he said again, and you dared not turn around and face him.

            “I forgive you, Namjoon,” you said.

            “But,” he stuttered, and you felt him take a step closer to you.  You shook your head, but refusing to turn around, you reached your hand behind you and removed his from your shirt.  Giving it a tiny squeeze, you said again,   

            “I forgive you.  Now let me go.”  He did.

 

            To their credit, the boys gave you your space the rest of the afternoon and let you go back to the dorm to pack up a few things.  Jisung drove you to an extremely fancy hotel and dropped you off with a small squeeze on your shoulder, and you followed the bellhop to your door.  When it opened you gasped, and the bellhop gave you a smile as he put your bag down.  Once he left, you laughed at the sight.  An enormous bouquet of flowers sat on a table with probably forty—okay, that was an exaggeration, but why were there so many?—bowls of packaged ramen, and, as you examined the table, a letter that you noticed was signed by Yoongi.  You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips.  You weren’t necessarily big on getting gifts, but if the boys of BTS wanted to apologize by giving you flowers and food, you had to admit that you weren’t about to deny them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi seeks to explain and asks you to stay while you’re conflicted about the future of the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, body image issues, mention of self-harm.  
> The poem in this chapter is mine, so please do not steal it or judge too harshly.

**Day 17**

            _Y/N,_

_A few months ago when we were told we were going to hold a contest to let one fan stay with us for the summer, I was adamantly against the idea.  I didn’t want to do it.  I didn’t think it would be good for us.  Namjoon called our fans passionate.  I would venture to call some of them delusional and unruly.  I didn’t want to babysit or be forced to entertain someone all day or to try to live up to their warped expectations of us.  Worst case scenario, I didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and find some girl had snuck into bed with me.  I also didn’t want to get to know someone.  I didn’t want to be distracted.  And it seemed to go against what the company has expected of us for years, because in no way did we expect a boy to win the contest.  Having a girl, a woman, in the house would be too uncomfortable and might lead to some scandal we don’t want.  If the goal was to show fans another side of us, couldn’t we just film another documentary?  Post more makeup free selcas?  That isn’t the company’s goal.  They didn’t want to make it clear in the contest rules, even after you won.  They still don’t want you to know because they think some sense of authenticity will remain if you’re caught on camera unaware.  But after today, you need to know.  You deserve to know._

_The company is ready for us to start dating.  A couple members are ready to.  Really want to.  (It’s not me, if you’re wondering).  Understandably, the company is worried about how fans would react.  This summer is like a trial run.  You’re the guinea pig.  If you thought the cameras were bad, I wouldn’t be surprised if you fly home today.  They want to know how fans will react seeing us around a girl.  A woman.  Most of us thought the plan was absurd.  Some were curious.  We clearly didn’t think about the consequences of what it would mean for whoever won the contest.  Certainly none of us thought we would have someone like you join us._

_I remember when Namjoon showed us your admission video.  He was so excited I almost bought into the idea right then and there.  And as I watched you and listened to you, I began to see how the summer could actually go.  Your genuine words and mannerisms and your obvious passion gave me hope that the crazy idea could work.  You seemed level-headed and mature.  You being a teacher only added to the company’s plan, and we all agreed to learn some English in exchange for treating a fan to a great summer._

_Y/N, please don’t hate us.  You won’t actually date us, so why should we expect you to fall in love on camera for some crazy entertainment purpose?  Is this The Bachelorette?   I can’t apologize enough.  I hope you do decide to stay so we can work something out.  I want to take another walk with you.                       —Yoongi_

            The inside of your mouth was completely torn up, as you had spent hours pouring over Yoongi’s letter, translating it and reading and re-reading it, trying to figure out what this meant for you, the boys, and the rest of the summer.  “You won’t actually date us,” Yoongi had said.  You weren’t allowed to fall in love with them or be physical in any way beyond platonic skinship; the rules were clear.  So what was the company expecting from you?  You groaned and leaned back in the hotel desk chair, spinning yourself around a few times to clear your head.

            You next went over the papers Mina had left you.  You could find nothing in there about hidden cameras or giving consent to being filmed without your knowledge.  You were really surprised because it was either an amateur mistake or they thought you would never notice, which was really insulting.  Of course you didn’t want to go home yet.  You had nothing to do back home, and it was excruciatingly hot there.  Plus, everything here was paid for.  That didn’t make you shallow but practical.  And you couldn’t deny the feeling of curiosity growing within you.  What else did they have planned for you this summer?  And, completely unrelated, which of the boys wanted to start dating?

            Spinning again, you hopped out of the chair and went to get dressed, texting Mina as you got ready that you’d like to go back to the dorm if the cameras were taken care of.  She sent you a short, professional confirmation, and you thought back to her behavior yesterday.  You hadn’t really seem to hit it off with Mina since day one.   Usually you were really good at understanding where other people were coming from and figuring out the meaning behind their action, but Mina had been different.  She had just seemed cold, so you hadn’t bothered to figure out why.  She had kept repeating that her job was to protect the boys, and maybe that’s really all she had been doing.  She didn’t know you, after all, and maybe you had to earn her trust.  Two weeks hadn’t seem to have been enough time for that to happen, but you were really hopeful after yesterday she understood you also only wanted to protect the boys.  Had they really not thought of how bad it would look if people found out what they had done?  Did they think you would just be cool with it?  Be silenced with money later on?  You shook your head, letting your curls fall to your shoulders, and went with a causal white shirt with a watermelon on it and a pair of ripped jeans.  It was summer, after all, and something about the shirt made you want to eat fruit and icecream.

            When Jisung picked you up, you gave him a huge hug.  He took one step back from you and then straightened up.  Something about the sky made you feel like starting over, and you really needed to begin with Jisung.

            “ _Good morn—afternoon,_ ” you said cheerfully.  Yesterday had really exhausted you, and you had relished the comfort of the hotel bed for too long that morning.

            “ _Hello,_ ” he said, and helped you load your bag, the cart of ramen, and flowers into the car.  You buckled the flowers in so they wouldn’t spill and then hopped into the front seat.  “ _Where to?_ ” he said, starting the car.

            “ _To the dorm.  Please,_ ” you said, pointing forward.  With a nod, he started off.  A little absentmindedly, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Instagram, enjoying seeing what your friends were up to that summer.  One was working hard tutoring kids and helping her husband around the house.  Another was on vacation with her family, soaking up the sun in Florida.  Your friend in New York had clearly been having several fun nights out.  You went to your photos and looked through the hundreds you are already taken.  Most were of nature or things you had seen around town, but there were plenty candid and posed shots you had taken of the boys in the past two weeks.  They genuinely looked so happy in each one that you couldn’t help but smile.  You were really lucky to be able to know them.  You returned to your texts and sent one to Yoongi.  You hadn’t said anything about his letter yet, but you really wanted to do that in person.  Or in writing.  For now you simply said,

            “ _Hi, I’m heading back to the dorm._ FYI.”  You and Jisung had already pulled up when a reply finally came back.

            “ _Awesome.  Come to my studio when you can?_ ”

            “ _Okay,_ ” you sent back, smiling.

 

            For some reason you stood at the dorm door, your bag and flowers in hand but didn’t go in.  Jisung stood beside you holding the box of ramen and eyed you.  Thinking your hands were too full, he knocked on the door.  Odd; you had never noticed he didn’t know the door code.  The door practically flung open, revealing Jimin in a hoodie and jeans.  His whole face lit up when he saw you.

            “Y/N!” he almost shouted, and pulled you in for a hug.  But the moment his hands reached behind you—slightly crushing the flowers—he flew back.  “Ah, sorry,” he said, his hand flying out straight in front of him.  You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.

            “ _No problem._ I’d hug back but,” you lifted your full arms and he immediately took your bag and the flowers from you.  Giving Jisung a bow, you took the box from him and whispered, “ _Thank you.”_

            “ _Good luck,_ ” he said before leaving.  You found yourself entering the BTS dorm, feeling like it was your first time seeing it.  Shutting the door behind you, you saw Jimin put the flowers on the kitchen island and go down the hall to your room.  Jin was sitting on a stool eating, and he gave you a smile as you entered.  On the couch behind him in the living room lay Tae, covered up almost completely by a mound of blankets.

            “Y/N!” he called out, his voice muffled by a layer of cloth.

            “Tae,” you said, putting the ramen on the counter by Jin, who eagerly looked in the box and then chuckled, “ _are you sick?_ ”  You went up to him, your voice and face full of concern, and he smiled up at you from the couch.  He looked like such a little kid, and you couldn’t help but smile back as he shook his head.

            “No.  Not really.  _Not like I was.  Just tired._ ”  You nodded understandingly and saw one of his arms wiggling their way out of his blankets.  The one closest to you tentatively reached toward you, and you took a step closer.  His warm, large fingers wrapped around your index finger, and he swayed it back and forth a few times, grinning.  “I’m glad you’re back.  _I was worried._ ”  You nodded again and felt your smile fade.  Your eyes were starting to water and you didn’t even know why.  The fear you had felt in the past two days over him being sick and then of maybe being in trouble and then of what people had seen of you in your room and then of what was going to happen the rest of the summer seem to be hitting you, and Tae’s grip on your finger extended to your entire hand.  You saw as his other arm crossed over his body to grab your other hand, and you stumbled forward as he pulled you closer.  He pulled you so close your knee hit the edge of the couch, and you swung your leg over him and promptly lay down on top of him, a layer of blankets between the two of you, but as you held your arms close to your chest, his reached across your back, and he hugged you tightly. 

            From the kitchen, Jin turned around and smiled at the two of you, and Jimin came back down the hallway, grinning at the sight.  Shushing each other with looks, they went about their business, and you lay on the cloud that was Tae for awhile as he drew circles on your back.

            “ _I’m sorry I worried you,_ ” you whispered into his blankets, thinking of what Yoongi and Jungkook had told you about the night you were gone.  He only hummed in response and lifted up your hair and let it fall over your face.  He repeated this several times until you pushed yourself off of him until you were sitting on him.  His hands rested near your knees, and yours were still on his chest.  You cocked your head at him inquisitively when you saw how serious his face was, and then you felt his hands moving up your thighs.

            “Ya,” you said, bouncing on him one.  He stopped and let out a breath of air.  You laughed at him and climbed off, patting his head and ruffling his hair before tucking him back in.  “ _Go to sleep,_ ” you said, and he closed his eyes, smiling widely.

 

            You found yourself hesitating at the entrance to your room, too.  Even though the door was open, the light was on, and you could see where Jimin had placed your bag.  You couldn’t help looking around as you entered, either, wondering how long you would be paranoid in the room you were supposed to be comfortable in.  You only stayed long enough to unpack your overnight bag before heading to see Yoongi in his studio.

 

            Even though he had invited you, you still lingered outside his door for a moment, messing with your hair over and over again.  It was only when you thought that he could have been watching you the whole time did you knock.  You heard him mumbling as the door opened partially and his head stuck out.  When he saw it was you, he opened it wider and gave you an uneasy smile.

            “Yoongi—”

            “Y/N—” you both said at the same time and then you both laughed, ready for the awkward tension to be over.  He waved you in, and you stepped inside, letting him close the door behind you.  Once again you tried not to look around too much, not wanting to disrupt what felt like a sacred place.  It was Yoongi’s space, after all, and you understood the significance of being welcomed into it, so you sat yourself on the couch as he sat in his chair.

            “ _So,_ ” he tried to begin.

            “ _I read your letter,_ ” you began.

            “ _Letter,_ ” he corrected you.

            “ _Letter,_ ” you said again, nodding, realizing you must have used the word for a single letter, not a written letter.  Yoongi actually looked nervous.  His hands were picking at the threads on his rip jeans, and he was trying to keep eye contact with you but was clearly uncomfortable.  “ _I._ Well, _thank you._ For telling me.  _I don’t want to go home.  If that’s okay._ ”  Yoongi’s head bobbed up and down.  “ _I want to walk with you,_ ” you managed, staring up at the ceiling every time a syllable was hard to say.  But Yoongi was smiling at you now, and you sighed in relief.  “I don’t see what any of you see in me,” you muttered.  “But I’m willing to give this another try.  _I want to help,_ ” you summarized.  “But, if I’m honest, I’m worried about what ARMY will think.  What ARMY will do.”  You pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them tightly while Yoongi frowned.

            “They’ll be jealous,” he said.  You nodded.

            “Theoretically, they should be happy for you.  _They should be happy._ If you’re happy.  But.”

            “People are people,” Yoongi said simply.  “ _They’ll like what they like and hate the rest.  I hope they are nice to you._ ”

            “ _They won’t be._ ”  You knew you were pessimistic, but you were also realistic.  You just wanted Yoongi to agree with you because you didn’t want him setting himself up for some failed expectation.  And he actually nodded, sighing sadly.

            “ _I’m sorry,_ ” he said, but you shrugged.

            “ _May I play?_ ” you asked, pointing to his piano, wanting to change the subject.  He nodded and got out of his chair to slide it over for you.  Keeping the sound low, you played through a couple of songs you had memorized or partially memorized, enjoying feeling the keys move beneath your fingers.  You let yourself enjoy the music until you felt bad for stealing Yoongi’s chair and leaned back in it.  He was standing close behind you, and the chair pressed against his stomach.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said, smiling at the view of him being upside down.  His smile came through pressed lips, but he nodded down at you.  Standing up, you went to pick up your backpack to leave, but as he sat down in his chair again his brows narrowed.

            “Stay.  Please.”

            “Oh.  Okay,” you said lamely, putting your bag back down and sitting back on the couch.  This earned you another Yoongi smile, and he pulled up to the piano and began running his fingers expertly over the keys.  You laughed softly, as his improv or messing around was better than anything you had just played.  But you didn’t feel jealous.  Instead you leaned your head back and watched the muscles in Yoongi’s forearm twitch with each press of a key.  You watched as his eyes blinked, his thin lashes curled slightly, and his head swayed back and forth.  You swear as he played he forgot you were there, that anything else existed.  You almost forgot where you were or what you were worried about two minutes ago as you listened to him play.  He stopped at one point, one hand above the keys and frowned, then turned his chair back to his computer and stuck his headphones back on.  Soon his mouse and keyboard were clicking away, and you sat quietly for a few minutes before digging out your journal from your bag.  Thus, for the next couple of hours you and Yoongi worked separately but together, each content in the silence.  But as you thumbed through your book, your eyes started to shut on their own, and while you really weren’t one for taking naps, you were still so emotionally exhausted from the previous days’ proceedings that you couldn’t help leaning back and then lying down.  You curled up a bit, watching the back of Yoongi’s chair, and you wondered if he would mind, but you didn’t want to interrupt him by asking.  Surely you would just close your eyes for a few minutes…

            You jumped as you felt a hand on your arm, and your eyes flew up to Yoongi sucking in his breath and stepping back from you.

            “ _Sorry,_ ” he whispered.  Was it darker in the studio?  There was a blanket on top of you.  Groaning, you started to sit up, but your shoulder contact with Yoongi’s hand, and he gently pressed you back down.

            “Stay,” he said softly.

            “Did you just tell me what to do?” you said.  You meant your tone to be joking, remembering the last time you were in his studio, but with your half-asleep voice you were afraid it came out way too flirtatious, smirking up at him through half-closed eyes.

            “Mm,” he said, his eyes narrowing.  He licked his lips and then pointed down to your journal.  “What were you writing?”

            “A poem,” you said, sticking your hand out from the blanket past Yoongi’s leg to your journal.  Propping yourself up on your elbow, you opened it to the last page and handed it to Yoongi.  “I mean, it’s in English,” you muttered and then laid back down.  Yoongi took your journal and sat back in his chair, reading over your poem.  You really hoped he didn’t look through any previous pages, especially since you had written plenty of things in there about him.  But you figured he would need a few minutes to translate what you had written, and your eyes shut again.

Fault lines scarring all my skin,

creating trenches I’m living in.

Mountain patterns along my side

rose too quickly for me to hide.

 

Heartbeat dashes along my arm,

jarring reminders with each breath

that the lines of self-harm

do not equal my death.

 

Tectonic plates across my brow,

shifting with each change in life.

Forcing me to ask myself how

to balance on the edge of a knife.

 

Craters burrowing into the ground

after trips, falls, and daily failings.

Battle scars louder than any sound,

even than that of bullets walling.

 

Fault lines scarring all my skin,

creating trenches I’m living in.

Let the earthquake do nothing more

than remind me what I’m living for.

 

            You woke up again with another start, this time your eyes opening to see Yoongi’s knees in front of you.  He was sitting on the table.  He was holding your wrist and running his fingers up and down it, and you couldn’t help shivering.  Noticing you were awake, he stopped, but he didn’t let go of your hand.  Instead, his grip tightened.

            “Ya, Y/N,” he said, “ _do you hurt yourself_?”  You hissed at the pressure on your hand and tried to pull away, but he only bent down to look at you closer.  You opened your eyes fully and blinked at him.  You shook your head but added, in a whisper, for good measure,

            “ _No._ It’s a poem, Yoongi.”

            “Mm,” he said, and you weren’t sure if he completely believed you.  It was a poem about the physical scars on one’s body, sure, about stretch marks and scrapes; your body, like every body, had plenty of them, but no, you had never made any on purpose.  “Write what you know,” he said, and he let go of your hand.  But he sat there, staring down at you, and you remembered what he had written.  “ _I don’t want to get to know someone.  I don’t want to get distracted._ ”  Then what was he doing?  What were you doing?  You couldn’t fall in love with them.  You couldn’t date them.  There were no cameras around to record how Yoongi was acting around you, a girl, a woman.  What was all of this for?  What was the point of reaching your hand out to wrap around his leg and grab onto his calf muscle?  Why didn’t he push your hand away or shake his leg so you would let go?  Why did he reach for your hand to remove it from his leg only to keep it in his hand as he pulled you into a seated position?  Why did he stand up and, still holding your hand, sit on the far end of the couch?  Why did he put a pillow on his lap and use his free hand to gently guide your head and your entire body back down until you were looking up at him from his lap?  Why did he immediately lean his head back and close his eyes while your cheeks blushed furiously?  Why did you let go of his hand only to turn on your side and curl into him?  Before you felt yourself drift off again, you remembered one other thing Yoongi had written:  _I didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and find some girl had snuck into bed with me._ So why were his fingers in your hair, their movements lessening, or your ability to feel them slipping, as you both fell asleep on his couch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make up with Mina and wonder why Yoongi wants to read your poems. Also, you’re apparently “sensitive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 18**

            You woke up with a groan and half a dozen messages on your phone.

            “Shit,” you mumbled, sitting up.  A chair squeaking reminded you of where you were, and you squinted across at Yoongi.  How did he sleep on this awful couch so often?

            “Do you have more?” Yoongi asked, pointing at your journal that still lay on the table in between you two.

            “Poems?” you said, yawning and stretching your arms over your head.

            “ _Yeah._ ”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” you repeated.  “ _Too many.  Why?_ ”

            “ _I’d love to read them,_ ” he said, smiling.  You rolled your neck and rubbed your shoulders with your hands, too stiff from the stupid couch.  You laughed once at his request.  Min Yoongi wanted to read your poems? 

            “Uh, okay,” you said.  “They’re on my computer, though.  I can e-mail you?”  He nodded, already scratching something down.  You heard a paper ripping and opened your eyes to see him handing you a scrap with what looked like three e-mails written down.

            “Send to Namjoon and J-Hope,” he said, his finger waving at the paper.

            “Uh, okay,” you said, now extra unsure why he wanted you to do that.  But you shrugged.  There was no harm in sending them.  You weren’t a published author or anything, you just wrote poems as much as possible because they took less time than stories or books, and it was a good mental exercise to write them, but they were seriously mostly trash.  Whatever, whatever Min Yoongi wanted. 

The texts were from Mina, your mom, Yoongi, oddly enough, Namjoon, Tae, and another unknown number from a few minutes ago.  Namjoon and Tae had both asked where you were last night, so you quickly replied to them both about falling asleep in Yoongi’s studio.  You sent a silent prayer that neither would ask anything in return or give you a hard time.  After the past couple of days, you really couldn’t handle any judginess, but you also doubted they would get on your case about it, as they probably knew they were still on thin ice with you.

            Mina’s text was about the English lesson that was supposed to be have been yesterday.  Could you do it today?

            “Sure,” you texted back.  “10 work okay?”

            “I’ll let the boys know,” she replied immediately.  Finally noticing the time, 8:04, you read the text from the unknown number.

            “ _Breakfast with me and Jimin?—Jin”_ Finally, someone who signed his name.  Adding his number to your contacts, you texted back.

            “ _Yes please.  When?  Where?_ Also, could you bring me a shirt?  Top drawer?  And my computer?”  You knew Jin’s English was pretty good, but maybe Namjoon was around to help figure it out if Jin needed help.  Not that you had done much yesterday, but there was something gross about wearing your watermelon shirt, or any shirt, two days in a row.  You thought for a moment about asking them to bring your makeup, but you figured Mina could handle it at the studio.  Once Jin had sent the address of the restaurant, you read Yoongi’s text, which he had sent at 3:49AM.

            “ _I don’t sleep well anymore.  I don’t even remember what it was like before._ ”  You looked up from your phone at him.  His back was to you, though, and he was already working on his computer, his headphones in and his knee bouncing.  Had he gone to sleep at all?  Had he woken up and regretted letting you fall asleep?

            “ _See you later,_ ” you said loud enough to stir you from your own thoughts and for Yoongi to raise his hand to you as you let yourself out, closing the door gently behind you.

 

            For some reason you’re grinning like an idiot even though you’re anxious while you wait for Jin and Jimin.  Maybe you had good dreams last night.  Maybe you realize you’re completely not ready to teach a lesson today and have decided fuck-it, you’ve been in worst situations before and have improvised just fine, so you’re going to enjoy breakfast.

            And you do.  Jin and Jimin both come up with hoodies over their head and masks on their faces, looking like they’re very intent on not having anyone recognizing them, but once they sit down with you their hoodies are thrown back and their masks are removed.  Of all the boys, Jin and Jimin definitely laugh the most or have the most distinct laughs, in your opinion, so breakfast is loud and active.  Jimin falls over in his seat several times, and Jin slaps the table or Jimin’s arm on more than one occasion.  You find that you can understand most of what they’re saying, so you laugh right along with them, but you’re also just laughing at them laughing.  Apparently they had worked out together that morning and both acted like they hadn’t eaten in days.  You noticed how Jin always made sure you had something to eat first whenever you ate with him, and you smiled endearingly at him as you took the first bite.  After that he would stuff his face, but that first bite meant a lot.  You were glad that Jimin’s mood seemed lifted since the other day, and you made sure to meet his eyes as often as possible so he could know you were alright, too.

            The boys had a driver pick you up when your meal was over to take the three of you to the studio, and once there Jimin opened his bag.

            “Ah, Y/N, _top drawer shirts, computer,_ ” he said, handing you three different shirts and your laptop.  Thanking him, you went to change into the simple pink satin shirt you had brought from home before finding Mina.

            “Mina,” you said, poking your head around the door frame.  Jungkook, J-Hope, and Tae were still getting ready, and they all gave you a wave as you came in.  “Could you do my makeup today?”

            “Sure,” she said, and you sat down.  You tried to look straight ahead at yourself in the mirror, but you couldn’t help glancing at Mina’s face every now and then, trying to figure out what she was thinking.  When she was done with your makeup she turned to your hair.  You felt bad; you hadn’t showered last night, so it was pretty frizzy after sleeping on Yoongi’s stupid couch.  But within minutes Mina had sprayed and combed enough of it for it to look decent again, and you smiled at her in the mirror.  Thankfully she saw, and you swear the corner of her mouth moved up, and she definitely squeezed one of your shoulders.

            “Have everything you need for today?” she said.

            “Actually, no, could you help me?” you said, hopping off of the chair.  She nodded and followed you to the studio.  As she walked behind you, you realized she was not as intimidating today as she usually was, and for the first time you wondered how old she was.  Or how long she had been working for BigHit.  Did she have a boyfriend?  You didn’t know anything about her, and you sighed, feeling like you had been way too hard on her.  You felt like she was too hard on you, of course, but that wasn’t a good excuse to be rude back.  Besides Namjoon, she was, after all, the only other Korean you knew who could speak fluent English.  Oh, and Jackson, but you still didn’t know if Mina knew you knew him, and you weren’t about to tell her about your…interactions with him.

            Your improvised plan including checking their journals, doing charades, which Mina had helped you write out on pieces of paper, and prepping them for the next lesson which was going to require them to learn certain words and phrases to do well on it.  Their journals were interesting today, as all of them had written some form of apology, knowing that you would read it.  Your heart felt heavy the more that you read, and when you were done with Jungkook’s you addressed all of them.

            “Guys,” you said softly.  “Thank you.  I do forgive you.  Let’s have some fun today, okay?”  Everyone agreed, and sure enough doing charades produced a lot of laughs.  Jimin fell on the floor again from laughing so hard, and Yoongi sunk to his knees when he got a really obvious question wrong.  J-Hope’s moves were wide and wild, and his exaggeration made you giggle uncontrollably.  Jungkook did really well today, you noticed, and you made sure to praise him in front of all the other boys.  He blushed a little, which made Jimin pounce on him, embarrassing him further.  Finally, you had them write down a list of words and phrases, explaining they would need to study them before their next lesson.

            It hadn’t felt very structured, but you knew anything was better than nothing, so you ended the lesson and thanked the boys, who all gave you a ceremonial bow.  As you all broke up, picked up the pillows, and took off your mics, Yoongi whisked J-Hope and Namjoon away, but not before Namjoon looked at you long and hard until you looked away, flustered at his staring.  Jin said he had a voice lesson to go to, thus leaving you with the three youngest.  Jungkook immediately suggested dancing, and Jimin agreed, saying they needed to work on the choreography for the concert.  Tae agreed, though he did still seem to be a little sick, as his breath was a little uneasy.  After e-mailing Yoongi, J-Hope, and Namjoon as promised, cringing slightly at how cheesy some of your poems were, you sat against the wall out of the way and watched in awe until something at the back of your mind dragged you to your feet.  Giving the boys a small wave, you went searching for Mina.  You found her in one of the meeting rooms working on her computer.  Knocking gentle on the door, you let yourself in when she looked up.

            “Hey, Mina,” you said.

            “What’s wrong?” she said.

            “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head.

            “Oh.”

            “Can we,” you began.  Wow, you hated this.  It was way too awkward.  “Can we talk?”  You weren’t even sure where to begin, but you sat down when she nodded.  As you were trying to think of what to say first, you stiffened when you heard Mina sniff, and you looked across the table to see her crying.  “Ah,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

            “I’m sorry,” she chocked. 

            “I forgive you,” you butted in before she could say anything else.  “I think you were just doing your job, right?”  She nodded, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.  “How long have you worked for BigHit?”

            “Two years,” she said.  “My sister was one of their hairstylists and got me an interview.”

            “I really envy you,” you said quietly, and Mina’s eyes came up to meet yours.  “You get to see the boys every day.  You help them with their work and their lives.  They wouldn’t be anywhere without their staff.  Without you.”  Your words brought a blush to Mina’s cheeks, but she seemed to have stopped crying.  “May I ask you a question?”

            “That sounds fair,” she said, smiling slightly, which made you smile, too.

            “How old are you?”

            “Twenty-four.”

            “Ah, J-Hope’s age?”  Mina nodded again and hung her head and muttered something in Korean.  You raised your eyebrows and leaned across the table at her.

            “So, Mina, if you could date one of the boys, who would it be?”  You just meant to tease her, and you knew it worked because she looked up, her eyes wide, and she was shaking her head.  You laughed, though you really didn’t mean it to be mean.  “I bet you have a pretty strict no dating co-workers or your bosses rule, huh?”  Mina swallowed once and nodded, and you laughed again, 100% confident she liked one of the boys.  You felt annoyingly girly, but you were determined to figure out who she liked.  “So, that means he could like you back and you wouldn’t know,” you said, mostly just thinking out loud.  But Mina shook her head again, her face very serious.  She definitely looked younger and less intimidating like this.  “Mina,” you said, changing the subject, “could we go out sometime for a drink?”  Your question visibly caught her off guard, and you felt panged.  Maybe she thought you hated her, but maybe one day, maybe over drinks, you could explain yourself better.  Much to your relief, she finally nodded, and you stood up, feeling triumphant.  If there was anyone you needed to make amends with, you were certainly in the mood for reconciling and fixing relationships.

            You texted your mom finally as you walked back to the studio where the boys were still dancing.

            “Y/N,” Jimin said when you came in the room, and before you knew it he was upon you, grabbing your hands and pulling you close.  You hastened to put your phone in your back pocket and orient yourself to what was happening.  One of Jimin’s hand was already on the small of your back, his hand warm through your thin shirt.  Tae was sitting by your stuff against the wall, breathing hard, and Jungkook seemed to be practicing an aerial flip.  You put one of your hands on Jimin’s shoulder and waited for him to take your other one.  When he did, his hand on your back pulled you closer.  Jimin wasn’t that much taller than you, so you didn’t have to tilt your head to look at him, but you wanted to look away; his gaze was so intense.  You hung to him loosely and your feet stumbled, not really sure what you were doing.  He somehow pulled you even closer, and you stepped on one of his feet.  He only laughed at this, and then, lowering his head and his voice, he whispered,

            “ _You danced at the club._ ”  You threw your head back and laughed at what he was insinuating, but, trying to sound as serious as him, you stared back at him.

            “ _It was dark there._ ”

            “ _Jungkook, kill the lights,_ ” Jimin yelled out, and in a few seconds the lights in the studio went out.  You might have gasped.  The way Jimin’s eyes changed certainly surprised you, as did him guiding your hand from his shoulder to his waist.  You held on tentatively and waited to see what he would do.  He took a step back, and you followed, and when he moved toward you, you moved away.  You did this step around the room, his hand moving from your back to your waist, and you could feel him pushing your hips whenever he wanted you to move while he tugged simultaneously on the hand he was still holding.  When he seemed tired of this stance, he dropped your hand so both of his hands could grab your hips, and you put your free hand on his shoulder, pulling at the collar of his sweater.  You saw him swallow, and you laughed before biting your lip, still trying not to step on his feet.  His face was still serious, though, and you saw his head moving toward you.  You moved yours away, exposing your neck, and his head brushed against your skin, tickling you.  Laughing again, you pulled gently on the back of his hair, pulling his head off of you.

            “Jimin,” you said, because you weren’t sure what else to say.

            “Jimin,” you heard someone else say, and you let go of Jimin’s waist, afraid of—who?  Mina?  Seijin?  Namjoon?—getting in trouble, only to see Tae standing there.  “May I?” he said to you, offering his hand.  Jimin let go of you and you took Tae’s hand.  He immediately spun you away from Jimin and you laughed, crashing into his chest.  His chest shook as he laughed and pulled you in for a hug.  You stood like that for a moment, his hand still holding yours against your chest, until you felt his thumb move against your collarbone.  You instinctively sucked in your breath, trying to move away from his hand, and he stopped, staring down at you.

            “You okay?” he said, and you nodded slowly up at him.  Humming, he spun you again so you were facing him, and then, grabbing both of your hands, spun you around once more and pulled your back into his chest.  You had done this before.  You placed your hands on his over your hips and let him move you back and forth.  “Please don’t hit me,” you heard him whisper in your ear, and your stomach and side clenched, remembering what he had done last time.  You willed yourself to not elbow him in the stomach, but your whole body had gone stiff and you felt his grip on your hips loosen.  “ _Relax,_ ” he said, too close to your ear.  You took a deep breath, but you saw Jimin and Jungkook standing watching, and you licked your lips, locking your jaw.  “You’re okay,” Tae said again, his left hand moving.  Yours was still on top of his, so your arm moved with his.  As he raised it, his hand twisted until it was on top of yours, and he placed your hand gently on the small of his neck.  Your fingers curled slightly when he let go, and you felt his soft neck hairs.  You realized Tae’s and your feet had stopped moving, and you only had a split second to notice this as Tae’s hand was trailing below your elbow down your arm.  Your hairs stood on end and you sucked in your breath again, your fingers digging into Tae’s neck.  You heard him chuckle again in your right ear, and the next thing you knew he was spinning you away from him again.  Jungkook and Jimin were also laughing, and the former said once again,

            “ _She is really sensitive._ ”

            “ _Ya,_ ” you crossed your arms in front of you.  “ _That’s mean._ ”

            “Ah, _you’re cute, Y/N,_ ” Jimin said, pulling you in for a side hug.  You pushed him away, annoyed.

            “There’s no need to make fun of me,” you pouted.  The three boys looked at each, and you pulled out your translating app and typed in what you said.  Their faces immediately looked concerned, and Jimin and Tae shook their heads at you.

            “No, no, _we want you to have fun,_ ” Jimin said. 

            “We’re just having fun,” Tae said.  You still huffed.

            “Stop saying I’m sensitive.  _Sensitive._ ”

            “ _But you are,_ ” Jungkook said.  “ _It’s not a bad thing,_ ” he clarified.  You narrowed your eyes at him, and he waved his hands at Jimin and Tae.  “ _You explain._ ”

            “ _Uh, no way,_ ” Jimin said, scurrying away, leaving you looking up at Tae.

            “I’ll tell you later,” he said, smiling.  Still annoyed, you picked up your backpack and decided to walk back to the dorm.

 

            It was funny.  Tae had seemed the most upset about you getting in trouble or being uncomfortable, but he hadn’t changed how he was acting around you.  You were lying in bed reading that evening—after cooking dinner with Jin for everyone but Yoongi, J-Hope, and Namjoon, who still weren’t home.  It had been an interesting meal prep.  Jin had just finished a vocal session, so whether he was feeling extremely confident or the exact opposite, the result was the same.  He kept randomly hitting high notes, his face stretching immensely, resulting in you laughing each time at his expression.  At one point, you wanted to make him laugh, so you tried to hit the highest note you could, and what surprised you was that you actually hit it.  Jin didn’t laugh at all, but his eyes got wide.

            “ _Ya,_ ” he said, “ _do that again._ ”  But you tried and couldn’t, so this time you both laughed, and at the dinner table you sat by him and let him feed you your first bite before you all dug in, and your face hurt from laughing so much—so it was after dinner, and you were trying to read, when Tae knocked on your open door and came in.

            “Can we practice?” he said, and you noticed he had his journal with him.  Sitting up, you nodded, and he wanted help with the words and phrases you had assigned them today.  You beamed at him, super proud of him, and helped him run through them a few times.  Finally, his eyes started to glaze over, so you handed his journal back to him.  He smiled up at you and then bounced onto your bed.  “Are you really okay?” he said gently.  You nodded slowly.  “Good.”  His hands were sitting on your blanket, and he was fiddling with them.  “I want you to be safe.  Feel safe.”

            “I feel safe with you,” you said, because it was true.  Sure, you were still upset about what happened and confused about what to do now, but each day was allowing you to understand the boys a little more, and there were many things they didn’t understand or really have any control over.  They could control their own actions, though, and their responses, and you believed they were each genuinely sorry and wanted to make up for it.  If you were completely honest, you felt as safe and comfortable with them as you did with most people, which wasn’t much, but it was easier with some of them.  You knew that was partially your personality mixing with theirs.  Beyond that, you weren’t sure why you didn’t mind Tae sitting on your bed, while Namjoon doing the same thing may have made you uncomfortable, for instance. 

            “Good,” Tae said, and then pulled out his phone.  He pushed play on a song and placed it on the bed in between the two of you.  You watched him pick at your blanket as you listened, and you remembered your question from earlier.

            “Tae,” you said, and he smiled up at you, “ _sensitive?_ ”

            “Ah,” the boy said, and his eyes wavered.  His confidence from earlier seemed to have vanished.  “ _Maybe you should ask Namjoon._ ”  He swung one leg off of the bed as if he was trying to run away.

            “Uh, _no,_ ” you said firmly, leaping up to stand in front of him, blocking his escape.  The laugh on his lips died when he saw how serious you were.  Licking his lips, he cleared his throat and moved his other leg off the bed and then scooted to the edge of it.  His hands reached out and grabbed your waist again, and you almost fell on top of him when he pulled you closer.  He seemed to be staring straight ahead at your stomach, so you poked the top of his head, causing him to look up at you.

            “You don’t know?  _Sensitive?_   _Really?_ ”  You shook your head, annoyed again. He was making you feel pretty dumb.  Of course you knew what the word sensitive meant in English, but the way they were describing it, it must have a different meaning in Korean.  Something was different about it; the connotation?  The context?  “It’s,” Tae started, cocking his head at you, trying to find the right words.  You looked down at him patiently.  “A guy,” his eyes darted to the side, “wants,” his eyes met yours, “a girl,” his eyes darted away, “to be sensitive,” he ended, looking up at you again.  You pressed your lips at him and furrowed your brow.  His eyebrows raised, and the corner of his mouth twitched.  You replayed what he had said and then,

            “Ooooh,” you said, finally getting it.  His mouth clicked, and he nodded.  Suddenly you started laughing, and you flew a hand to your mouth to try to stop yourself, but you couldn’t.  You laughed louder than you had all day, a laugh of realization and awkwardness, before you screamed a little and shook your head back and forth, trying to repeal the images popping up in your head.

            “Shh,” Tae said, but he was laughing, too.  “Shhh,” he said, finally releasing your hips and standing up.  He placed a hand gently over your mouth, and you laughed into it.  “Shh.”  Your shoulders shook still, though, and there were tears in your eyes.  Tae shook his head at you, and you blew on the back of his hand, but he didn’t move it.  You opened and shut your mouth with an obnoxious chewing noise, but he didn’t move his hand. 

            “Tae,” you said, looking at him.  You were still smiling, but you really wanted him to move his hand away from your mouth.  He only smirked at you, so you did the only thing you could think of.  You quickly stuck out your tongue and licked Tae’s hand.

            “Ah!” he said, withdrawing it immediately.  You laughed at him wiping his hands on his pants.

            “ _Someone’s sensitive,_ ” you said, and laughed again at his shocked expression.  He was shaking his head at you, but you didn’t care as you literally pushed him out of your room and closed the door, laughing for the thousandth time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to explain to someone on Tumblr what being "sensitive" meant *screams*.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks with Mina followed by a request from Namjoon seem impossible…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> Once again, the poems here are mine, so please do not steal or judge too harshly.

**Day 19**

            Impossibilities.  You listed them to yourself every day.  Every morning you would count everything you couldn’t do.  At night you would review the list and add more to it, letting them marinate as you tried to sleep.  But even impossibilities could be broken.  You could never…You never imagined…There’s no way you’ll ever…These were thoughts you repeated all of the time, and today they were pervading your thoughts, assaulting you, making getting out of bed more difficult than usual.  In an attempt to calm yourself down, you sat up and turned on your light and paced back and forth in your small room, trying to sort out your feelings from what you knew was true.

            Fact 1: You were really lucky to be here.  You should let yourself enjoy it more.

            Fact 2: The boys were nicer than you thought they would be.  You should just let them be nice.

            Fact 3: You weren’t allowed to fall for any of the boys.

            Fact 4: You were…no, no you weren’t, see Fact 3.

            Fact 5: You were here to help to teach English.  And let fans see how the boys interreacted with a single female.  (You paced extra on that thought).

            Fact 6: You hadn’t seen your dog or slept in your own bed or seen your mom, your best friend, for twenty days. 

            Fact 7: You had never been gone from home for more than two weeks.  The first time was in college when you went to help at a summer camp, and by the second week your introversion was so bad you pretending to be sick so you could have time to yourself.  The second time you were vacationing with your mom, so she could handle your weird moods and knew you just needed space when you randomly had a panic attack in a crowd on day twelve of your trip.

            You took a deep breath.  You realized you had crossed a line.  You were somewhere you had never been, this you knew, experiencing something you had never experienced before.  This you also knew, and it scared you.  Whatever “failing” meant in this situation, you wanted to avoid it.  Most importantly, you didn’t want to bother or upset the boys, so, knowing your mood was going to be a little odd today, you decided to get out of the house and do some sightseeing unless you were needed.  As it was barely 6AM, you decided to exercise and text Mina after you showered and got dressed.  You picked a pale blue dress with eyelet embroidery around the neck and along the bottom when you got dressed over an hour later.  It was light and modest, and its only flaw was not having pockets.  Everything should have pockets.  The best part of the dress were the flounce sleeves that you just wanted to twirl around and around.  And you did, too, right over Jungkook’s head as he was eating breakfast in the kitchen.  You couldn’t see his face, but his head did lower, so you stopped and lowered your forehead down to press against his bare back.

            “ _Good morning,_ ” you said.

            “ _Good morning?_ ” he replied, and you pushed off of him, laughing.  Jin raised his eyebrow at you, but didn’t say anything, so you went to stand next to him and pointed at Jungkook.

            “I don’t think this kid likes me,” you whispered to him.  He laughed into his soup and whispered back,

            “You make him nervous.”

            “What?” you said, elongating the word.

            “ _Ya, hyung,_ ” Jungkook mumbled.

            “ _Really?  I’m sorry,_ ” you mumbled back, but then, unable to help yourself, you looked right at him with a smirk on your face and said, “ _Is it because I’m sensitive?_ ”  Jungkook and Jin simultaneously choked, and Jungkook’s eyes water as he coughed.  You shrugged at Jin but gave him a wink as you walked past Jungkook, tickling his back with your sleeve.  He straightened up and looked at you.  You were really glad you were already at the door, because he had a mischievous look on his face, but at least he was smiling.

            “ _Bye,_ ” you said, drawing out the word as you waved yourself out.

            “Jin!” you heard the youngest boy almost yell the moment you closed the door, and you laughed against it before heading downstairs to wait for Jisung.

 

            “Your stage name would be Jason,” you randomly said to Jisung as you sat in the front seat.  “Jisung, Jason.  Jason,” you said, pretending to a fan calling out his name.  “Jason!  Yeah, I might just call you Jason from now on, okay?”  You smiled over at your driver, bodyguard, cameraman, friend?, and he smiled without looking at you.  “Cool,” you said.  You had picked some more museums to see today as you wanted to stay inside as much possible, but you also spent a few hours at the infamous Gyeongbokgung Palace.  Not surprisingly, it was super crowded, but you enjoyed seeing a variety of tourists and locals there. Many wore a Hanbok—it was free to get in if you were wearing one—but you didn’t rent one yourself, not about to be caught trying to culture appropriate.  The intricate design of the palace and its stark contrast to the modern buildings surrounding it fascinated you, but you were glad when you sat down inside to eat lunch with Jisung.  You watched him closely as you sat across from him, remembering how he had made you dinner and then breakfast only a few days.  There was something different about him today, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.  Shaking it off, you pulled out your phone as it buzzed, seeing a text from Mina.

            “Could we meet up today to discuss tomorrow’s Run episode and next week’s plans?”

            “Over drinks? Say yes please.”  You couldn’t see her, but the text was delayed enough to know she was hesitating, but she finally sent back,

            “Sure thing,” and later an address and what time to be there arrived.  You actually clapped your hands, causing Jisung to look at you funny.  You only raised your eyebrows at him and wiggled your shoulders, making him smile.

 

            Mina, you realized, when Jisung dropped you off a few hours later, looked beautiful and stressed as always.  She gave you a small wave when you entered, and you felt bad, wondering if she had waited long.  As soon as you sat down, she pushed some papers in front of you.  Business as usual.  You looked over them briefly but still asked,

            “What’s this?”

            “We decided to make sure things are clearer from now on.  So you will know what the boys know and know beforehand as much as possible.  There is a specific clause now in there about not being filmed without your knowledge.  We want to make sure you feel safe and respected.  It,” she faltered, “was never our intention to do otherwise.”

            “Okay, okay,” you said, not wanting to bring all of that up again.  “I understand.  So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

            “Well,” Mina said, clearing her throat, “as originally planned, tomorrow’s Run episode is going to be focused around you.”

            “What?” you blinked.

            “Did you ever see—” she paused, probably thinking of some Korean show.  “No, have you ever watched any dating reality shows?”

            “Unfortunately,” you said, afraid of where she was going with this.  Yoongi’s words rambled around in your brain. _They want to know how fans will react seeing us around a girl.  A woman… You won’t actually date us, so why should we expect you to fall in love on camera for some crazy entertainment purpose?  Is this The Bachelorette?_ Please, don’t say it, Mina.

            “Well, in a way it will be like that.”

            “In what way?” you said, your bluntness catching Mina off guard.  She took a sip of water and shifted in her seat.  “Please, I deserve you to be honest with me at this point, don’t I?  Please explain.”

            “The boys are competing, in a way, this summer to…win you over.”  You held out your hand to stop Mina, because the word “competing” made you want to throw up.  You were pretty sure most people would have squealed and blushed at this explanation.  Having the boys of BTS fighting over you, even if it was just for the camera?  What girl wouldn’t want that?  You, that’s who.  It would be fake.  It was wrong.  The whole idea made you uncomfortable.  “So they’ll have to answer questions about you and you’ll judge them in different categories.”

            “What?” you looked up at her, your head resting against your hand as you leaned on the table.  “What categories?”

            “Ranking them.  Like based on looks.  Etc.”  You shook your head.  “Judge their dancing and singing.  That sort of thing.”

            “So you want me to, on camera, for all ARMIES to see, rank one boy against the other?  Say who I like more based on appearances or certain skills?”

            “Basically.”

            “And you think this is a good idea?”

            “Well,” Mina started.  You laughed, realizing she really was naïve.

            “Do you know people legitimately, even if it’s illogical and horrible, hate other people because of their opinions?  If I say J-Hope is the best dancer, people who love Jimin will want to kill me.  I’m sadly not even exaggerating.”

            “That won’t happen,” Mina said.  You stared at her, and something in you snapped.  She thought it was impossible.  You knew it wasn’t.  You would prove it to her.

            “Okay, okay, so rank the boys.  What else?”

            “You’ll go on dates with them.”

            “What?” you said, laughing outright. 

            “Hang out with them one-on-one.”

            “Right, that’s basically a definition of a date.  Okay,” you said, ready to pretty much accept anything at this point even though you thought the whole thing absurd.  “What does the winner get, by the way?”

            “Ah,” Mina said, hesitating.  “I don’t think the company has thought that far yet.”  Her eyes shifted to her right, and sure, someone was coming in the door, but you knew she was lying.

            “What about me?  Do I win anything?”

            “Oh, well,” Mina said slowly, so you stopped her.

            “Nah, it’s okay, just hanging out with the boys is a prize enough.  Okay, what else?”

            “Ah, well, in a couple weeks they have a photoshoot scheduled, and they’d like you to join them for that.”

            “What?” you said for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour.  “No.”

            “Sorry?”

            “Uh, just no, I mean, look at me,” you said, waving your hand around your face and down your body.  You weren’t expecting Mina to do just that.  Her eyes wandered up and down your body, at least what she could see from where you were mostly hiding behind the table, and her gaze seemed to linger around your neck, or your ears, somewhere for long enough to make you lean your head back and roll your shoulders back.  “Why?” you said, sounding whinier than you expected.

            “You’re very beautiful, Y/N,” Mina said.  You laughed at that, but you could tell she was serious, so you stopped, trying to take her compliment.

            “Okay, okay, we’ll deal with that when we get there.  What else?”

            “Well, as of now that is what is planned for the next couple of weeks,” Mina said, calling a waiter over.

            “Oh, that’s it?  Just judging the boys, dates,” you put air quotes around the word, “and modeling?  Yeah, no problem, I do that stuff every day.”  You pfted, trying to play off how terrified you were.  This was too much.  This was going to be impossible.

            But sometimes even impossible things could happen.  Even impossible things couldn’t be stopped.

            At the moment, what wasn’t impossible, though you wouldn’t have thought this nineteen days ago, was how easy Mina was to talk to when you weren’t discussing work.  Maybe it was just the alcohol, but for the next two hours the two of you laughed as you got to know each other, sharing story after embarrassing story.  You listened to her share her concerns about her job—never complaining, it seemed like she was incapable of a negative word about the boys or BitHit—and you realized she basically had a 24/7 job.  She was “on call” all the time.  Her life revolved around other peoples’, and you thought of your students and how much you had scarified to make their lives better. 

            And she listened to you rant about your work problems—uninvolved parents, apathetic kids, lackluster co-workers—until you were blushing because you realized she probably didn’t care at all.  But her laugh was reassuring, and you talked about the both of you being the youngest in the family but about how you were still the most responsible and how oldest siblings got too much credit.  You tried to get her to tell you the most shocking thing she had ever done, and she said she got caught kissing some boy at school once.  You rolled in your seat at that and had to be practically bribed before you shared how one time you got kicked out of a bar on a first date for making out with the guy on a couch.  Her mouth flew open at that until she laughed hysterically, and her laugh was light and high pitched, louder than you expected.  You even rolled over again after a few more drinks and discretely lifted up your dress so no one else but her could see your tattoo that you insisted you had and she knew you had because it was on your application but she still wouldn’t believe it until she saw it, and she gasped again and laughed loudly.  Your heart felt so much lighter, and you couldn’t help but grin widely when you saw Yoongi had texted you.

            “Can you come to my studio?”

            “Mina,” you said, looking up from your phone, “Yoongi wants me to come to his studio.”  You had meant to just sound like you were telling her that you needed to go, but instead you said it and immediately giggled.  Oh.  Were you drunk?  You bit your lip a couple of times, and sure enough, you barely felt it.  Oops.  You lifted your arm, unaware that Mina was saying something, and felt it wiggle.  You giggled again.  Wiggle.  Giggle.  Giggle wiggle.  You were totally an amazing poet.

            “Oh, Jason!” you said when you saw him standing over your table.  Mina gave you a funny look and said something else in Korean.  “Jason,” you said, “look.”  You waved your arm at him, laughing.  He gave you a thumbs-up and handed you a water bottle.  “ _Water,_ ” you said, repeating it several times as it was a funny word to say in Korean.  Soon your words just turned to weird noises as you took sips of water.  “Mina is really cool.  Mina, _she’s cool,_ ” you told Jisung, who nodded at you.

            They were walking you out to the car, and you were a little annoyed you were more drunk than Mina, considering her tiny size.  Did you drink more than her?  You swear you had more to drink the other night with Jisung, and you hadn’t gotten nearly this disoriented.  Oh my god, did Mina drug you?  You laughed while leaning against the car window, its coolness soothing your burning cheek. 

            What time was it?  Where were you going?

            Did you have gum in your bag?  You should chew some gum.  Was it weird that you were wearing a backpack with a dress?

            Yoongi’s studio.  Oh, elevator rides feel funny on your tummy.  Funny tummy.  Yummy funny tummy.  Oh, you were hungry.

            Look, the door to Yoongi’s studio.  Your sleeves were really swishy.  You could put both of your arms in one sleeve.  Someone else’s arm could go up your sleeve!

            Oh, it’s Yoongi.

            “ _Hi Yoongi,_ ” you said, and he opened the door wide.  You took a step inside and saw Namjoon and J-Hope on the couch, and your second step hovered in the air.  Do you put it down?  Step backwards?  What are feet for? 

            “Hey Y/N,” Namjoon said, his dimples showing, and J-Hope flashed you a grin as well.

            “Yo,” you said.  Yo?  “What’s up?”  Stop smiling like the Cheshire cat, ya loon.

            “Uh,” Namjoon said, standing up half-way—halfly?—half up—he was half standing, half sitting—that’s a squat—but not an exercise squat or a using the bathroom squat—he was hovering—oh wow, Namjoon was hovering, that’s so cool.  “You want to sit?”  You snapped your finger and shot a finger gun at him and finally put your foot down.  Stepping past Yoongi, you slid down into the couch and Namjoon sat back down next to you.  Yoongi was back in his swivel chair—oh, you wanted to spin him around until he puked—oh, no, don’t think about puking—and looking at you oddly.  You frowned dramatically at him and his eyes shifted to Namjoon.  You swirled the gum around in your mouth and raked your bottom lip over your teeth several times.  Still drunk apparently.

            “Y/N?” Namjoon was saying, and you looked up at him.  Yoongi’s studio was dark.  It was always too dim in here—the boy was going to ruin his eyesight—but Namjoon was wearing glasses and your hand was floating in the hair, heading toward them—abort, abort, what are you doing??  “Are you okay?”

            “I was with Mina,” you explained.  Namjoon nodded, the bridge of his nose long and smooth and you just wanted to run your finger down it.  Hey, put that finger down, don’t do it.  Your put your finger on your own nose.  “What’re y’all up to?”

            “We were reading your poems.”

            “ _What?  Why_?” you said, laughing at the three of them.  Not at them.  Ah, who were you laughing at?  Stop being so weird.

            “You e-mailed them to us,” Namjoon said slowly.  It sounded like he was talking to a child, and you totally resented that.  You stuck your finger out at Yoongi, very adultlike.

            “Yoongi told me to.”  Yoongi actually laughed at that, because he had figured out what was going on.  He pressed his fingers into his forehead and looked at you.

            “We were wondering if we could use some of them for a song or two,” Namjoon said.

            “What?”  You sobered up immediately.  But also wanted to throw up.

            “Ah, these two especially,” Namjoon said, rifling through a pile of papers on the table, “I was translating these to see how they’d sound.  Here,” he said, handing you a page.  You recognized the two poems as your own immediately.  It had been awhile since you had read them, so you scanned over them, trying to see what the boys had seen.

Overheard Conversations

 

She heard the congregation

talking in the hall,

and even though all they had to say

came as no revelation,

she still hurt in such a way

that she took a moment before walking away.

All she felt was a growing frustration

and wondered how such an education

could produce such a generation.

Instead of feeling humility,

they inflict each day a new humiliation,

forgetting the Incarnation

and embracing their own Damnation.

All their words made her feel like isolation

was the only way.

Their occupation was detonation,

and soon their words began

to have their way.

She was tired of being an abomination

and of their lack of appreciation.

She took her locker door in hand

and without delay they heard her say:

           

Listen, listen if you may

            to what I have to say today.

            For too long I’ve let you have your way,

            but today’s the day I have my say.

 

            Forget your exploitation and initiation,

            I’ll give you no more ammunition.

            Consider this my official petition,

            I’ll take no more of your condemnation.

 

But as her locker door closed in expectation,

she realized there was one complication:

Every single conversation

took place in her imagination.

 

Static

 

I didn’t realize the other day

that the picture had gone away.

All that remained on the screen

was the sound of a broken machine.

I couldn’t turn away my eyes

as I tried to decipher the cries

and in the middle of them all I found

swimming safety through the sound

you.

 

I leaned in closer to get a better view

so I could figure out who

was the one dot among the sand

who wasn’t holding someone’s hand.

While next to the black you stood

some symbol of what is good,

but then I blinked and for a moment

the image on the screen bent

you.

 

I tried to reach out to you,

because I didn’t know what else to do,

afraid that you would change your color,

that black is what you now prefer.

But then right before my very eyes,

you reappeared and grew in size,

and dancing across my screen

was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen:

you.

 

I seemed to have watched you all day long

until I was no longer strong.

You were my only constant,

my friend I could see when I squint,

but then one day you disappeared

and without you my mind was cleared.

I called you friend, but now I see

who would never set me free.

You.

 

            “See, this part,” Namjoon said, leaning his shoulder into yours and pointing at the page.  He was saying something.  You should pay attention.  But he wasn’t making any sense.  You leaned back on the couch and closed your eyes but flung them back open as the room was spinning too much.

            “Okay, whatever you need,” you said, and sunk against Namjoon’s shoulder, your head falling.  You made a noise as you felt yourself slipping, your entire body unable to rest on Namjoon’s shoulder, and you saw yourself falling, falling forward, but his arms came out to catch you and sit you back on the couch.

            “Y/N, are you okay?” Namjoon said for the thousandth time that night.  Yoongi chuckled in his chair.

            “ _She’s drunk,_ ” he said.

            “Ah,” Namjoon said, his hands letting go of you as if your skin was burning him.

            “I’m not, really,” you said, and you held onto one of Namjoon’s thighs as you lowered yourself down, bringing your feet up to the couch.  You curled up as tightly as you could and placed your head on Namjoon’s leg, your arm squashed underneath you.  You felt Namjoon stiffen, his hands hovering above you, and the room got too quiet for a moment.  You couldn’t close your eyes, because the world was turning upside down, but you didn’t want them open, either, because Yoongi was just staring at you.  “Mm,” you hummed, shifting a bit, “you’re not as soft as Yoongi, Namjoon.”  If the boy could have stiffened anymore, he would have.  And if Yoongi didn’t bite his god damn lip before shaking his head at you, trying to hide a smile.

            “Y/N, Y/N, come, come, let’s go home,” a voice pierced the silence, and you had forgotten that J-Hope was even in the room sitting on the other side of Namjoon on the couch.

            “ _Do you have a mask?  And let me borrow your jacket,_ ” J-Hope was saying to someone.  You saw Yoongi getting up, moving around, handing J-Hope something.

            The pressure under your head moved, and the table was flipping, no, you were sitting up, and someone was holding your hand, and you were walking out the door, and he pulled you in for a hug in the elevator, and you placed your head on his chest, and he smelled like nothing but cleanliness, and the pressure on your hand was barely there, and then it wasn’t, it was on the small of your back, and you were being told to watch your step, and another elevator took you up—and the whole time you felt completely safe, like even though you were not in the right place you were exactly where you were supposed to be—and a few voices greeted you, and your shoes were being taken off, and your mouth was cool from toothpaste, and your face splashed back to life, and you felt soft fabrics in your hand, and you unbuttoned the back of your dress and bent down to peel it off and someone was jokingly shouting,

            “ _Ah, wait, wait,_ ” and you blinked.  J-Hope was scurrying away from you, almost tripping over your bed on the way out, and Tae stood in your doorway, his hands in his pockets, smiling.

            “ _You good?_ ” he said softly, and you nodded.  He nodded back, his hair falling into his face, and he leaned forward to pull your door shut.  “ _Good night, Y/N_.”

            “Good night,” you mumbled.

 

            Wait.  Had Namjoon said they wanted to use your words in a song?

            Impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I love Mina. Also, Y/N drunk is funny to me.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the games begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> This is THE day that made me start writing this thing in the first place, so it's very special to me.

**Day 20**

            No.  No, not tonight.  Of all nights.  Why did it have to be tonight?  It had been eight years ago, you were over it.  You had been civil with him for years because he always said you were immature whenever you felt jealous when you weren’t even dating, so you had always wanted to handle it well.  His views were so different from yours that he didn’t even see it the way you did.  He was wrong, he was wrong, he was wrong you repeated, bunching up your sheets in your firsts, your sweat doing your crying for you.  You had promised yourself you weren’t going to let it run your life, so why were you sitting up in bed clutching your chest, struggling to breathe?  You had been running away from any intimacy for the past eight years; hell, you didn’t even hug your friends back home, and that wasn’t normal.  You were lying to yourself when you told yourself you were fine.  If you were back home, you’d…you’d do nothing.  You always took this shit because you thought you deserved it.  Even after all this time, you thought you were to the blame.  You should’ve told him no, after all.  You should’ve said something.  Groaning, you leaned forward and placed your head in between your knees, trying to still the room.

            Unsuccessfully.

            Stumbling over your sheets, you fell off of your bed and crawled into the bathroom, throwing up into the toilet from your knees.

            “Shit,” you said, wiping your mouth.  When your knees were steady you stood up and brushed your teeth, not bothering to look at yourself in the mirror.  You languidly grabbed your pillow and tiptoed to the kitchen to get a drink of water.  Leaning against the island, you took a deep breath, and you eyed the hallway on your right.  Your glass forgotten, you rounded the corner.  Two doors were open, and you went to the first one, J-Hope and Jimin’s room.  Even in the dark you could see Jimin curled up next to J-Hope even though the older boy’s hands were thrown over his own head.  You couldn’t help but smile, but your heart felt heavy.  In the next room, Namjoon still wasn’t home, and Jin—

            “Oh, _sorry,_ ” you said, burying your face into your pillow and backing away.

            “Y/N,” Jin called out, and you stepped back into the doorway.  “Why are you up?”  Suddenly, you felt like a little child.  You stared absentmindedly down the hall as you answered, not looking at him.

            “Bad dream.”

            “ _Mm, nightmare,_ ” Jin nodded understandingly.

            “ _And I got sick._ ”

            “ _What?_ ” Jin was rustling around in his bed, and when you finally looked he was standing in front of you, his face peering into yours, his hand reaching up to touch your forehead, and his bare chest close enough to touch your hands clasped in front of you, holding tightly to your pillow.  “ _Does this happen a lot?_ ”  You thought for a moment about what he had said, but he tried again.  “ _Are you okay now_?”

            “Mmhmm,” you nodded, and you placed your head on your pillow and leaned forward in to him a little.  He took the hint immediately and wrapped one arm around you, rubbing your back.

            “ _Come on, you should try to sleep._ ”  He moved with you into the hallway and then let you lead the way.  As you climbed back into bed, you watched as he wet a rag and placed it on your forehead before squatting down beside your bed.  “ _Good night, Y/N,_ ” he said, giving you a smile.  You turned over on your side so you could look into his eyes before you closed your own.  You didn’t hear or feel him move, and when you mumbled, half under your breath, his name, you heard him hum beside you.

            “ _Thank you._ ”

 

            “Could you wear black today?  Filming at 1pm,” Mina’s text said.

            “Sure, can you do my hair and makeup?” you sent back as you got dressed in your new black jumpsuit.  It was short sleeves, and the top part had buttons and a modest collar.  It was simple, but chic, and best of all it had pockets, so you felt comfortable enough in it to possibly tackle today’s seemingly impossible task.

            “Sure.”

            “Are you okay after yesterday?”

            “Yeah.  Are you?”

            “Better than I thought I would be, actually,” you texted back, not exactly positive what all had happened last night.

            “Glad to hear,” Mina said, and you smiled at your phone.  Yesterday’s little excursion seemed to have helped some.  You decided to catch up on some work and try to mentally prepare for the day after eating breakfast.  The kitchen, however, was currently occupied by all seven boys, which wasn’t a normal occurrence for early in the morning.  You stopped awkwardly in the hallway until Jimin noticed you.

            “Y/N!  Look!  _You have a secret admirer,_ ” he said, pulling you into the kitchen to the island where a large vase of flowers stood.  A smile crept to your lips, and you looked around suspiciously at all of the boys, wondering who was having a bit of fun.

            “ _Read the card,_ ” Jungkook said, pointing over Jimin’s shoulder to a small note stuck on the vase.  It was in Korean, so you looked over it for a moment, reading each letter and then each word until you could figure out the gist of what it was saying.  You were silently thankful the boys were patient.

            “ _Good luck today._ Uh.  Today…luck? Wishes?  Best wishes?”

            “Good luck today, basically,” Namjoon said, reading the card you handed him.

            “Ah.  Who sent it?  _Who sent…_ ” you couldn’t remember any Korean words today, embarrassingly.

            “ _There’s no name,_ ” Yoongi said, taking the card from Namjoon.  It was typed, not handwritten, so passing it around from guy to guy didn’t make a difference.  You were starting to wonder if none of them had sent it.  But then, who did?  Also, the boys were really good at acting, so you eyed each of them again.  But there was no way of knowing why Jimin was smiling—he had sent you flowers before, sure, but why hide the fact now?  Tae had also gotten you flowers before, but that had also been really obvious.  Yoongi was looking at you as if you were the suspicious one, which was either suspicious in turn or just proved that he was innocent.  Jin was making breakfast, maybe to hide his face from being examined, or maybe just because he cared more about feeding everyone.  Jungkook had pointed the card out first; was that a diversion tactic or did he really not know?  Namjoon had read the thing only after seeing it, but maybe he knew what it had said all along.

            “Goodness,” you said out loud.  Why did it matter?  “ _Thank you,_ ” you said to everyone and to no one, apparently.

            Soon the kitchen was full of chatter as the boys rushed to get ready and eat, heading to practice before filming later, leaving you to finish your breakfast in piece.  You touched the flowers in front of you softly and picked up the card, turning it around.  Someone had handwritten a note.  It had to be one of the boys.

            _You look nice._

 

            You were just going to play a part, you told yourself as Mina fixed your hair and makeup.  You had acted plenty of times on stage and at random events.  Shoot, you acted almost every day back home in front of your co-workers and students, always putting a fake smile on.  So just play the part, you told yourself as you fidgeted with your bracelet. 

            You had played Eponine in high school, so you certainly knew how to fake being in love with someone who was faking to not be in love with someone which was an experience you had to completely fake because you were only sixteen and hadn’t been in love yet at all.  You had acted in that short film your friend of a friend’s was making and eagerly followed instructions when he told you to pretend—“Or actually do it if you want!” the director had shrieked mischievously—to make out with some stranger as the camera went by.  You could act however the boys wanted you to, you told yourself as you got your mic put on.

            And there was that time your friend in college who you knew was gay before he knew was gay wanted to go to a stupid frat party, but he was afraid of being found out—of what, he didn’t even know yet—so you reluctantly allowed him to drag you along, and wouldn’t you know the first thing out of his mouth was to introduce you as his girlfriend?  And you had looked at him so lovingly even though internally you were planning on how to kick his ass later, and you clung to him the whole night like an annoying girlfriend would and people actually asked him at the next party where his girlfriend was?  Yeah, you were a great actress, you told yourself as you lined up with the boys.

            And shit, there was that time you went with him to a senior dance for a political event and this adorably sweet but horribly wrong old married couple told you that you and your boyfriend were cute together and neither of you denied it even though you were not dating, and you just pretended for one evening that he actually loved you.  Shit, you could do this, you told yourself as you heard Jungkook slap the “slate” and the show began.

_You look nice._

            The boys looked nice, too.  Almost too nice.  They all had black slacks and white shirts on, and the only colors they wore were colored satin vests that varied in style from boy to boy.  Shoot, there was something about suit vests—

            “B, are you ready?” Namjoon was asking, so you nodded, a little too enthusiastically.  Jimin was stepping out of the shot to return with a stool for you, and you gave him a small bow and _thank you_ as you sat down.  He winked at you and stepped back into his place in line.  The plan was to introduce yourself.  Each of the boys would ask you a question and you were to answer thoroughly and honestly.  Easy enough, but your experience with interviews this summer had left a sour taste in your mouth to say the least.  Plus, ARMY would watch this.

            No, you got this.

            “ _Hello, my name is B, nice to meet you.  Thank you for having me,_ ” you said to a camera, bowing slightly from the stool.  Mina had put your hair up in a high ponytail, tied with a long white sash, and it fell forward a bit as you did so.  Tae was going to ask you a question first, so you watched as he put on a serious face—it was too serious, so it looked funny—and with his eyes smoldering asked you in perfect English,

            “What is your ideal first day?”

            “Ah,” you said, flashing Tae a smile and saying casually to the guys, “First dates are always so awkward, aren’t they?”  They all nodded and hummed in agreement—even if they didn’t all understand you, their support was appreciated—as you turned back to the camera.

            “For me, an ideal first date allows me to talk to the guy.  I love taking walks if the weather’s nice, and that gives you plenty of time and opportunity to get to know someone.  I love exploring, too, so going somewhere new or exploring abandoned buildings would be fun.  As long as you’re safe!  I’m not sure what else.  I think first dates are hard if you don’t know already the person a bit, because you’re trying to pick something they will like without knowing if they will or not.  There seems to be a lot of pressure surrounding first dates, so the simpler the better, I think.  I can think of a lot more things to not do on a first date, honestly.”

            “ _Like what_?” someone asked.  You looked over at the boys, and Namjoon clarified.

            “Ah, bad first dates.  I mean, do you know how many times I’ve been asked out to go get a drink?” you were asking the boys, but only a few of them shook their heads.  “Going out for drinks is the worst idea for a first date, honestly. It’s also dangerous.  Or can be.  So never that.  Nothing that’s too loud, like a concert.  And no movies.  I mean, you just sit there.  You can’t even talk.  Oh, another typical first date is eating, which I actually don’t like doing.  There’s always this worry about getting judged for what you’re eating or about having something stuck in your teeth.”  You laughed, your mind remembering some of your terrible first dates.  “So yeah, good luck avoiding bad first dates.”

            “Can you share a good first date or a bad first date experience?” one of the staff was asking from behind the camera—it must’ve been Mina.   You remembered the story you had told with her and laugh; there was no way she could weasel that story out of you while you were being filmed.  You pursed your lips for a moment before smiling at another memory.  “I’ve had a lot of bad first dates,” you said, laughing again.  “Bars, movies, concerts.  So those didn’t impress me.  As for a good one…” you paused, looking up at the ceiling before continuing.  “It’s a bit of a long story, so I’ll try to keep it short.  This guy had been teasing me for awhile, so I finally agreed to go out with him.  I could tell immediately there’d be no second date.  He only teased.  It was like he couldn’t be serious.  Every comment he made about me seemed to be condescending.  We were getting coffee, and it started raining.  I got really excited, and he was all ‘You’re like a little kid,’” you said, deepening your voice in an attempt to sound like the guy.  “We decided to go back to his apartment, but we never went in, because I started to play in the rain on the playground.  I just ran around laughing and having fun while he stood and smiled at me,” you said, smiling now.  “I mean, it was a terrible first date, but it was also perfect, because I was completely myself and having a blast even when this guy didn’t want to.  So,” you said, nodding to end the question.  You looked back at the guys, feeling really sorry that you couldn’t speak Korean, and hoping beyond hope they understood some of what you were saying.  Yoongi was next in line to ask a question, and he also asked in perfect English,

            “What is your ideal guy?” he was looking at the question from a card, but he looked up at you when you ended, and you immediately looked at the camera to answer.

            “Definitely someone passionate.  He has to care about something.  A guy who works hard is super attractive to me.  Also, he has to be kind.  If he’s nice to other people, I’ll be attracted to him.  He should be good at communicating; not just listening but also good at asking questions.  Those show me someone really cares.  Being smart or talented is also really attractive to me, but sometimes that is the same as passion.  So, oh,” you said, looking back at the boys.  Namjoon’s hands were in his pockets, and he was rocking back and forth a bit on his heels.  Jungkook seemed to be chewing on the inside of his mouth.  Jimin, bless him, was smiling gently at you.

            [It would only be later, when you couldn’t resist watching videos fans had made after slowing down, replaying, and overanalyzing how each boy watched you as you talked, that you realized this was the day he fell in love with you.  Each look meant something, and only upon looking back on the video did you see it.  Namjoon, needing no translation, held a small smile on his face as you talked until you became more serious, and then his face would reflect yours, a look of concern filling his features.  J-Hope swayed as you talked, his hands behind his back in an attentive manner, as if every word you said matter.  Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, and he couldn’t help but smile at the word “passionate,” as if your ideal man was clearer him.  Jin’s look was so tender that he was obviously proud of everything you did and said, and every time he wanted your attention he became obnoxious and louder than normal.  Tae’s mouth hung open a little, and his eyes looked spaced out, but everyone knew that was the look he made when he wanted to concentrate completely, and he couldn’t help but smile anytime anyone said your name.  Jungkook made little steps away from you every time you looked at him or near him, and the way he would step back into place was as if he really did want to be near you.  Jimin twirled his rings and fiddled with the card but seemed to melt whenever you were near him.  The looks meant nothing then, because you didn’t see them.  You didn’t see him seeing you.]

            “You probably meant looks.”  Namjoon translated and Yoongi looked at his card and then back to you.  He shrugged. 

            “Looks don’t matter much,” you said, looking back at the camera.  “Not to me.  I honestly thought something was wrong with me growing up because all my friends would freak out about which guy was cuter than other ones, and I never really cared.  I really care about how a guy acts and treats me.”  You nodded to end the question but then stuttered to say.  “I mean, looks do matter in some ways.  I do seem to like the way certain guys look over others.  But it’s not the most important part.”  Your words trailed off and you looked back at the boys, your eyes signaling for help.

            “Okay, okay,” Jin said, stepping forward dramatically, “what is a no-go?”  You blinked at him once and then turned back to the camera, your hand pointed in front of you.

            “Groping.”  You immediately heard Namjoon fail to hold in a laugh, and you looked to see him waving his hands.  You couldn’t help but smile back at him, faking naivety.  “ _Sorry,_ edit that out.  _Jin, what do you mean_?”

            “A no-go,” Jin said again, clearly not sure how else to say it.

            “Uh, turn offs,” Namjoon said, controlling his laughter.

            “Ah,” you snapped your fingers and turned back to the camera, and then started laughing, “Oh, no, there are a lot of them.  I think I’m too harsh.  Okay, no anger issues.  If I’m yelled at I’m done.  Don’t be a slob or expect me to clean up after you,” you said, starting to count on your fingers.  “If he doesn’t have a job, I’m honestly suspicious, so that’s usually not good.  Hmm, being too touchy if I don’t want him to be.  That doesn’t make sense.  Uh, sometimes you just shouldn’t touch someone.  If that makes any sense.  So respect that.  Oh, if he’s always funny or always serious I can’t get along with him.  You should be a mixture.  If he doesn’t like kids, I won’t like him.  If he’s too prideful or conceited or vain,” you said, still counting on your fingers.  You laughed again.  “I think I’m too hard to please sometimes.”  Jin seemed content with your answer, so Jungkook put on a serious face as he asked,

            “What did you learn from your last relationship?”

            “Ah,” you said, drawing out the word and nodding your head slowly at Jungkook, giving him a thumbs-up for his good English.  “I’ve never been in a relationship,” you told the camera with a straight face.  But you thought of him.  What was that?  What did that word mean?  You had many relationships.  “Well, no official, _boyfriend girlfriend_ relationship.  But I have still learned to most importantly not be a doormat.  Do you know that term?” you said, turning to Namjoon.  His face concentrated, so you explained.  “Someone who lets people walk over them.  Someone who is used by others.  I let people use me too often who don’t wish the best for me.  So I’ve learned to not let people treat me poorly.”  You realized you hadn’t looked away from Namjoon as you explained this, as the look on his face was so welcoming and comforting.  And you kept looking at him, as he was the next one to ask a question.

            “Why would you be a good girlfriend?”  You scrunched your face back at the camera, trying hard not to think about these questions or who was asking them or why they were asking.  They were just questions.  Easy questions.

            “I devote myself completely to other people.  I would be the most loyal girlfriend ever.  I would do anything for someone I love.  Well, within limits, of course.  But I hate conflict and fighting, so I would never want there to be a problem between us.  I would cook for him and clean and encourage and support him in what he did.  I am so good at encouraging people,” you said, laughing.  “I’d be a good girlfriend because I’d want to be.”  Namjoon smiled at you—it was such an easy smile, such a comforting smile still full of an apology and a longing for you to just smile back at him again and again, so you did, and he looked relieved.  He nudged Jimin who took two small steps toward you and held the card with both friends in front of him.

            “Why would you be a bad girlfriend?”  You laughed at the question, and you shook your hands at him, hoping he knew you weren’t laughing at him.  It was just worded so oddly.

            “I think the thing I would struggle with the most is believing that someone loves me.”  You waited for a moment, staring at the camera and then down at your hands in your lap.  “I mean, I have a hard time loving myself or believing I deserve love.  So I find myself doubting people when they tell me they love me.  I tend to need them to tell me often or I need them to show me, prove it, in a way, otherwise I don’t believe them.  I know it’s wrong, because who am I to doubt what someone tells me?  That’s essentially calling them a liar.  And if I claimed to love someone but then thought they were lying to me when they said the same, wouldn’t that just be the worst?  It would break my heart if someone didn’t believe my love.  So, my fear,” you knew you were almost whispering, but you wanted to answer while simultaneously not wanting to, “my fear is losing someone who grows tired of not being believed.  Because that would be fair.  I can’t expect someone to love me if I don’t even love myself, can I?”  To signal you didn’t want to say anything else, you looked back at the boys, and to your surprise you saw Jimin rubbing at his eyes.  “ _I’m sorry,_ ” you said to the staff, standing up off of the stool, “can I have a minute?”  There was some scurrying behind the camera and some confused faces, but you saw Mina nod to you, so you switched off your mic and walked over to Jimin.  He wasn’t crying, but he looked visibly upset.

            “Hey,” you said softly.  He brought his hand up to this face again, and you took the opportunity to grab his wrist.  “ _Come here._ ”  Glancing at Namjoon, who handed his card to Jungkook before following you, you pulled Jimin gently into the corner while the rest of the room hummed with white noise.  The situation almost mirrored a few days ago, this time with Jimin leaning against the wall and shaking his head until his hair fell in his eyes.  He brushed a hand through his hair and pushed it back before he looked at you.  “Did I make you uncomfortable?”  He shook his head when Namjoon translated for you.

            “ _No, no, I just,_ ” the younger boy looked at Namjoon once and then back at you, his eyes soft from tears but piercing in their intensity all at the same time.  “ _You deserve to be loved, Y/N.  I’m sorry no one’s ever showed you strong enough so you didn’t have to doubt them.  You should really love yourself.  You’re kind and smart and,_ ”

            “Okay, okay,” you said, laughing through how uncomfortable his compliments were making you.

            “I’m serious,” he stuttered, and you reached down to squeeze his hand.

            “ _I know.  Thank you,_ ” you said.  You let go of him so he could go fix up your makeup, and you walked slowly back to the other boys next to Namjoon, sticking your hands in your pockets like he was doing.  “Did I make him uncomfortable?”

            “What?  No,” Namjoon said.  “I think it was something you said in your first interview.  About how you think you’re like him in how he acts when he thinks he’s not good at something.”  You nodded, remembering.  “I think he’s just been seeing himself in you in the past few days.  You’re too hard on yourself, Y/N,” Namjoon said, stopping, almost in your way, so you were forced to stop, too. 

            “I know,” you whispered, looking up at him again into his reassuring eyes, his eyes that were so thin that if he smiled at all they would close, causing his whole face to crinkle.

            A staff member was calling you, so you both hurried back to your places.  There was only one question left, and you felt like you had thrown off the flow of things, so you willed yourself to concentrate.  J-Hope, once everyone was ready, in typical J-Hope fashion, asked his question as if it had four question marks at the end of it, and you laughed at his antics.

            “If you had kids”—he paused, a serious look on his face—“which would you like, boy or girl?”—here were the four question marks—and a huge smile on his face directed your way.

“I’d love kids one day.  At least a boy and girl.  In that order, so the boy could take care of his little sister.”

            “Aaaw,” J-Hope said, clutching his heart.  You resisted rolling your eyes at him but laughed anyway.  Relieved the questions were over, you stood up and tugged at your pants.  But apparently the next section was going to require you to sit on the stool again, so you lamely sat down again facing the boys and waited for the instructions.  You distinctly heard the word “dance” and noticed the boys all moving around, stretching in a half-hearted or exaggerated way.  You watched while biting your lip, waiting to hear exactly what was happening.

            “You just need to rate the boys’ dances,” you heard Mina say to your left.

            “Uh, like freestyle dancing?” you said.

            “Something like that,” she said, and you swear she was grinning at you.  You licked your lips and looked back at the boys, your stomach flipping.  The boys were drawing slips of paper and rearranging themselves, Yoongi visibly groaning the most and even blabbering about some excuse.  Namjoon also looked extremely uncomfortable, as did Jin, and you remembered it did have something to do with dancing, so they may feel a little anxious or uncomfortable with the task.

            But their uncomfortableness was nothing compared to what you were about to experience.

            Before you knew it, some music was playing and the lights had literally dimmed and Yoongi was…

            “Oh my god, no,” you said, looking away.  There was no way you were going to sit there and let the boys try to dance sexily in front of you.  No way.  But the moment you said that Yoongi almost looked hurt, so you reached your hands out to him and said “No, no,” again and then just held your face in your hands and tried to not break eye contact with him, but you knew he was nervous because he couldn’t take it seriously at all.  When he turned around to twerk in your direction you covered your face completely, doubling over in laughter.  By the time you looked up he was done—thank God—and you tried to recover yourself. 

            But Jungkook was taking giant, slow steps toward you, and you squished your hands over your mouth, trying to show no emotion.  This boy had a way-too-serious look on his face as he body rolled toward you—it was like someone doing the worm but standing up, you don’t even notice his feet moving as his chest and hips were way too distracting, and when he was within arms reach of you, he threw his legs wide and squatted down, running his hand along the inside of his thigh.  Your eyes went wide, and you waved your hands at him,

            “Stop,” you said, the word lasting until he stood up and walked away, smirking.  You fanned your face, feeling your cheeks burning, but you had no time to recover, as Jimin appeared before you, folding himself in half before you and bringing himself back up slowly, his eyes passing over you the whole time.  When he was standing back up, his arms floated effortlessly above his head.  He brought one hand down to brush through his hair while the other one ran down his chest and the damn boy licked his lips.

            And you started waving your arms around as if you were trying to fly right out of the room and away from the embarrassment that was already catching your cheeks on fire.  You didn’t scream often—it was way too girly and annoying—but you were silently screaming now, and it was going to burst out at any moment.

            God you needed to breathe, but you laughed in basically every situation, and you were feeling so flustered, your stomach was flipping out, so by the time J-Hope stepped in front of you you just took a deep breath and resigned to your fate, holding onto the stool to support yourself. 

            But as he threw out one of his legs and wiggled himself down, you realized he was doing the sexy version of some girl dance, and you just started laughing again and shooed him away.

            Poor Namjoon clearly did not want to do this at all, so you at first gave him a helpless smile, as you felt his pain, but as he only moved his arms and legs a little, you raised an eyebrow at him.  When he finally brought his eyes up to meet yours, your face was as serious as you could make it, considering you wanted to just laugh until you died,

            “Is that it?”  The question, or the way you slightly tilted your head back at him, broke him, and he retreated immediately, earning loud noises from the boys.  With an innocent smile, you cleared your throat when you saw Tae getting ready and put your hands in front of you on the stool, your legs spread a little on either side of them.  By getting ready you meant he pushed his hair back once, bit his bottom lip, and stepping toward you while unbuttoning his vest.  You wanted to scream at him to stop, but there was something about his look that was different from everyone else.  He wasn’t overdoing it, and he wasn’t uncomfortable.  You don’t even know what he did; you were staring at his face because he was staring at you.  And you forgot for a moment where you were, and who was watching, and his hand was on the side of your face, stroking you ever so slowly.  And even that didn’t undo you.  It wasn’t even when his head tilted toward yours.  It was his voice.  When he swallowed and whispered,

            “ _Are you alright_?”  You blinked once and remembered what was going on, and you smiled at him.

            “Ya, put your clothes back on,” you said, pushing him playfully away.  With a grin he threw his vest over his shoulder and returned to his spot.  Finally, it was Jin’s turn.  He wasted no time, his nerves from earlier seemingly gone, and unlike the other guys did not dance in front of you but reached for your hand.  Hesitantly you took it and leapt off of the stool.  One of his hands rested on your back and the other one flew above you and you were falling backwards, and you thought you were going to fall the whole way, but you grabbed him by the shoulder, and he held on to you expertly.  You were basically lying on his leg as he dipped you back, and suddenly he started to lean into you and you freaked out, laughing so hard that his grip loosened, and you wiggled until you fell off of his knee and laid on the floor laughing.  He composed himself quicker than you and offered his hand to help you up, bowing away from you and apologizing, his cheeks blushing, but you thought the whole thing was hilarious if not also agonizingly embarrassing.

            Still trying to stop laughing, you scurried to J-Hope, and you found yourself standing a tiny bit behind him so you could lean into his arm.  Your least favorite part of today’s show was next, you just knew it, and you also just wanted to hide behind anyone.  In fact, when Namjoon explained what you had to do and looked at you, you shrunk behind J-Hope even farther, grabbing onto the back of his shirt.

            “ _No,_ you can’t make me do it!”  Amid their encouragement you just said “ _No, no_ ” again.  Finally, J-Hope wiggled out of your grasp and put up his hands as if he was ready to fight you before bringing you in for a side hug, his arm thrown around your shoulder.

            “We won’t be upset,” Yoongi said.

            “ _We all know I’m the most attractive,_ ” Jin said, pointing to himself.

            “Ah, someone’s feelings will get hurt,” you said.  When Namjoon translated to everyone, J-Hope said,

            “Yeah, but you said looks don’t matter.”  He had a point, but you were more worried about upsetting ARMY than them, if you were honest. 

            “Someone will get their feelings hurt,” you said again, disengaging yourself from J-Hope.  “Okay, most to least?” you said, and they all nodded, standing up straight.  Quickly, like you were ripping off a band aid, you said “YoongiTaeJinJungkookJiminNamjoonJ-Hope.”  And you pressed your hands together and threw them over your head to protect yourself, stepping away from the boys and the camera and angry ARMY fans all around the world.

            “ _What, what?_ ” J-Hope was saying.  Unsurprisingly, he was shocked and even went to stand next to Yoongi, framing his face and then his own while the older boy had a smug looked plastered on his face.  “ _This, him?  What what?_ ”  Jin was staring at Tae who was laughing at him in a playful way.  Namjoon thankfully seemed unphased, but Jimin and Jungkook were definitely fighting about their spots, the youngest holding it over his hyung. 

            “It’s just my opinion,” you said, still bowing low, “and personality matters more.”  As Namjoon translated, a smile on his lips, Jungkook said teasingly,

            “Oh, do that, rank those, let’s go.”  You profusely shook your head, already fearing for your life.

            “Alright, and the dance?” Namjoon said.

            “Oh, god, have mercy,” you said, now stepping forward to hide behind Jimin.

            “ _Best to worst, best to worst,_ ” J-Hope said.  Groaning, you once again closed your eyes to rattle off, this time holding on to Jimin’s elbow while still a far enough distance away from him in case he wanted to hit you or something.

            “TaeJiminJungkookJinJ-HopeYoongiNamjoon.”  There were laughs all around at this, and J-Hope even imitated what poor Namjoon had looked like, much to the boy’s chagrin.  Pulling yourself closer to Jimin, you rested against his arm.  All of the laughing and mixture of emotions had exhausted you, and the boys still had another part of the show to do, but apparently they were going to do it without you.  They all thanked you and you waved yourself out, stepping out of the shot to take off your mic to hand back to Mina.  She followed you out in the hallway where you sunk to the wall and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

            “You did really well,” she said, smiling down at you.

            “Oh my god,” you groaned again.  “ARMY will kill me.”

            “What?  Why?”  You glared up at her.

            “They take these things very seriously.  J-Hope stans will think I rated him too low.  Stuff like that.”

            “Don’t let it get to you,” Mina said.

            “Easier said than done.”

            “Give yourself a break, okay?” Mina said, helping you to your feet.  You nodded, planning on doing just that for the rest of the day.

 

            After a bath, you curled up in bed with a book, knowing the boys would be working late, and enjoyed the quiet house to yourself.  As you felt yourself falling asleep, your phone vibrated on your nightstand, and you languidly picked it up.

            “You think I’m attractive?”  Yoongi.

            “Yep,” you sent back, and put your phone down.  You flipped the card you were holding in your hand over before using it as a bookmark and closing your book.

_You look nice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your "date" with Namjoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> Besides the last one, each of the "dates" was chosen randomly, so it was exciting to do Namjoon's first.

**Day 21**

            It’s not like you had forgotten what Mina had explained to you.  It’s not like you had forgotten the letter Yoongi had written.  It’s just that you really couldn’t believe it had all been real.  For your fourth week in Korea you were going to go on individual dates—“dates”—with each of the boys in BTS.  Individual hang out time on a one-on-one basis.  How many fans would kill to be you right now?  Though it wasn’t like anything could happen.  It’s not like the two of you would be alone.  With a camera crew and managers and various staff following you around, it’s not like anything could feel intimate.  Stifling and uncomfortable, sure, but not intimate.  You were just hoping to have fun and get the know the boys a little better.  If you could just smile and appear to be normal, everything would fine.  Don’t be too loud, but don’t be too quiet.  No one wants to watch two people silently walking around.  Be yourself, but don’t be too serious.  “Dates” that other people will be watching are no places for deep, philosophical discussions.  Smile, but only in a friendly way.

            Smile and appear normal, you told yourself after you exercised and showered the next day, wondering who had the first “date” and what the two of you would be doing.  You felt anxious just waiting because you knew something was bound to happen, but you didn’t know what or when.  For some reason this resulted in you staying in your room all morning trying to get work done and talking with your mom until you finally got a text.

            “Ready for the day?  Head to the studio when you can, please.” 

            Namjoon. 

            Inwardly you sighed.  You knew the selection was random, so you were relieved that Namjoon was going first.  You laughed at yourself.  Going first?  It wasn’t like you just wanted to get it over with or wanted to blow through them, you were just hoping not having to worry about understanding each other would be one less thing to worry about.  Plus without a translator there would be one less awkward wheel—forget third wheeling, we’re talking sixth to eight wheeling—to the whole “date” experience. 

            “Got it.  What are we doing?”

            “I’ll let you know when you get here,” he sent back.

            “Yeah, but what do I wear?” you said and paced back and forth in your room until he replied.

            “Fair.  Okay, we’re going to Yongma Land.  It’s an abandoned amusement park.”

            “Abandoned?  Oh my god.  Yessssss,” you sent, but you actually screamed—not loud or obnoxiously, though, of course—and did a little dance.

            “Can you save that excitement for the camera?”

            “Uh, trust me, you wouldn’t be able to handle all of my excitement, so I’ll just get some out before I show up.”

            “Ha, awesome.  _See you soon._ ”

 

            You came out of your room with your favorite white Converse, sweat pants to your knees, and maroon shirt on while you pulled on your new denim jacket and stuck on a white hat.  Jimin and Jungkook were sitting in the living on the floor scrolling on their phones and talking about something.  When they saw you, they both stopped and looked up.

            “You don’t look suspicious at all,” you said to them with a grin.  They looked at each other and then back at you.  “ _What are you doing_?” you went with.

            “ _Planning,_ ” Jimin said.

            “Uh huh,” you said and looked at Jungkook, but he didn’t add anything.  “ _Good luck._ I’m hard to please.”  You really didn’t think they understood you, but as you grabbed a water bottle and opened the front door to leave, you swear you heard Jimin whine,

            “ _See?  What am I supposed to do?_ ”

 

            Your excitement hadn’t waned by the time you got to the studio.  In fact, the car ride with Jisung who let you blast music only made you more excited, and you loved making Jisung laugh as you bounced around and danced in the front seat as much as you could in a confined area.  It was only when Mina was doing your makeup and putting a mic on you and reminding you of how to behave that your excitement started to melt into nervousness.  Especially since Namjoon wasn’t there.  In fact, you were starting to wonder if him being late was part of the plan, because you found yourself in the lobby making odd faces at the camera as you waited, and when he finally came around the corner you laughed, pointing at his head and then at your own.

             “Hey, I’m good at this couple stuff without even trying,” you said.  Namjoon was wearing jeans, a teal shirt, and a baseball cap that looked almost exactly like yours but was black.  You thought Namjoon blushed as he readjusted his hat and gave you a small bow.

            “Sorry I’m late,” he said.

            “No worries,” you said, smiling, somehow already forgetting that there were cameras watching you.  “So where are we headed?”  It’s not like you had forgotten; you just knew it needed to be on camera.

            “So, there’s this place called Yongma Land.  It was an amusement park until it was shut down, so now it’s abandoned, but you can still get in to take pictures and stuff.”  At the word “abandoned” your excitement had returned, and you clapped your hands.

            “Oh my god, that sounds perfect.  Ah, I can’t wait!  We’re going to get so many aesthetic photos.”  Namjoon smiled and nodded.

            “ _Ready_?”

            “ _Yeah, yeah,_ ” you said, and waited for him to lead you to the car.  You smiled as he opened the door for you and then got in after you.  In such a confined space you did start to feel a little uneasy again as there was a camera so blatantly staring you in the face from the front seat, and you could tell Namjoon was also struggling to make sure there was always something worthy of being filmed.

            “So, do you explore abandoned places at home a lot?”

            “I used to, but my friend who I always went with moved away,” you explained.  “I still do sometimes, but it’s always safer to have someone with you.  You never know when you might fall down a hole or break your phone or step on a rusty nail.”

            “Has that ever happened to you?”

            “Not while exploring, no,” you said, and then clarified, “Actually, no, I’ve never stepped on a rusty nail.  Have you?”

            “Nope,” Namjoon said, and there was a moment of silence.  “What’s the coolest thing you’ve explored?”

            “Oh, this old courthouse in my hometown.  I never go anywhere if there is a No Trespassing sign, and neither should you,” you said, pointing at the camera for a moment before returning to Namjoon, “so this place was off limits.  But it had been sitting there ever since I was a kid, and I drove by it a lot, so every time I did it just made me want to go in more and more.  Anyway, after I met my friend who likes exploring, we looked into and actually found a company who was looking to buy the building to demolish it.  We made up that we were working on a project and would like to take pictures inside before they did, so after a lot of paperwork they let us in.”

            “Wait, you lied to get in?” Namjoon said, his face a little shocked.

            “Not really.  We did take pictures.  And that’s a project, making sure you get all the right lighting and everything.”  He chuckled a bit.  “So that one was really cool.  I was also road tripping one day and saw what looked like a ghost town, so I pulled over to check it out.  The whole place wasn’t deserted, but several buildings were.  I didn’t see any signs, so I was going through some buildings until I saw this lady walking her dog down the dirt road, and I suddenly realized I was the stupid protagonist in a horror movie who was about to get kidnapped and chopped to pieces.  So I basically ran back to my car, trying not to look suspicious the whole time,” you said, and Namjoon laughed, imaging the whole scene. 

            “Did you succeed?”

            “Oh, no, I looked shady as heck,” you said, smiling.  You paused for another moment, and Namjoon looked at his phone.  If there wasn’t a camera on, if you knew him better, if this was an actual date, you’d be annoyed.  You’d make some comment about how he must be bored with you already if his phone was more interesting.  But you said nothing, and another silence fell between you.  The ride seemed too long, so by the time you arrived you felt like you could breathe again when you stepped out of the car.  The place immediately made you smile, and you even practically hopped over to Namjoon and tugged on his sleeve, pointing at the park’s broken-down sign and everything else around it.

            “This is so cool,” you said with a huge grin on your face.  He smiled, his eyes squinting, and soon the two of you were off.  You first stopped together under the gate for a staff member to take a picture of you, and you did your best to smile and make different poses, glad that Namjoon seemed to make mainly silly faces.  Of course, he looked amazing making any sort of face, but maybe someone could get a laugh out of your “very memable face,” as someone once said.  His eyes and his smiles were still reassuring to you, but there was also something behind them today that was bugging you.  As you entered the park you grabbed his sleeve to get his attention.  He stopped and turned around to look at you.

            “Hey,” you said, whispering for some reason, “this is all a little awkward, isn’t it?”  He was going to say no, you could tell, even though he wanted to say yes.  “I just mean,” you continued before he could make any sound, “you seem a little uncomfortable, and if makes you feel any better, I am too.”

            “Oh, it doesn’t,” Namjoon said, his brows furrowing.  Shit.

            “Oh,” you said lamely.

            “You’re uncomfortable?” he said, taking a step closer to you.  You were suddenly so aware of the cameras and staff around you.

            “No, no,” you stuttered, “I mean, this is all a little weird, is all.  And you seem a little awkward, too.  But,” you said, clicking your mouth and squinting one eye at him, “I’m probably just reading you wrong, right?”  He wanted to say you were wrong, you could tell.  He wanted to tell you what was bothering him, you just knew.  But instead he said,

            “I’m super excited to be here with you.”

            “Okay, then just remember I forgave you, and I’m ready to have fun.”  His eyes left your face at that and trailed to his feet and then the bottom of your shirt.

            “It’s just,” he began, and in the moment he stopped you knew he was never going to say what he wanted around any camera, so you walked past him toward a bumper car sitting in the road.

            “Push me!” you yelled back at him, and you sighed in relief when you heard his feet scuffling on the dirt behind you.  “Oh, man, I’m going to take so many pictures of you,” you said when he came up to you.  “Sit here, sit here.”  You sat him in one of the cars that was a faded maroon color, and you laughed at how his knees came up, way too big for the ride, and went around and around him snapping picture after picture.  “Carousal, carousal,” you said next, grabbing his hand and dragging him.  His feet got stuck in the bumper car, though, and only one leg made it out before he grunted, causing you to stop, unable to prevent a laugh from bursting out as you saw him looking up at you from under his cap, one knee on the dirty ground and one leg dangling behind in the car.

            “Your expensive pants!” you said, helping him up and bending down to brush his knee off with your fingers.

            [If you could have seen his hand hovering above your head, his fingers curling and then flexing in his uncertainty.]

            “Hey,” you heard him say, and you stood back up, smiling at him.  He rolled his shoulders back.

            “Carousal!” you said again and took his hand more gently this time to pull him to the chipped and frayed still animals.  What was it about carousals that either made people nostalgic or horrified that some possessed clown was going to come around the corner and murder them?  You watched as Namjoon seemed to transform into a child on the carousal despite the fact that it wasn’t even in operation.  You watched him without him knowing as he climbed on one of the horses and held on to the pole, a soft grin on his face.  When he turned around to find you, you said,

            “I’m getting dizzy,” and staggered off the ride.  As he sat there, you started to run in place beside him in the opposite direction he was facing.  “You’re going so fast,” you said between exaggerated huffs.  He laughed at you, so you stopped and told him, “I am a child.  Come on come, on, what else,” you said, walking off.  He struggled to get down and follow you but found you climbing into what was once a whirl and hurl ride.  It wasn’t called that, but it’s what you called them, as they would spin and rise up and down on each side, thereby making many people throw up from the excessive movement.  You had never ridden one, so you were glad this one was also stationary and giving you no motion sickness.

            “Oh my god, this is it, lie down,” you said, noticing how the floor was still in good condition and was a checkered pattern of a variety of different colors.

            “On this?” Namjoon said, eyeing the dirt as he came up beside you.

            “Look, it’s for a picture.  You must suffer for your art,” you said, crossing your arms.

            “Okay,” he said hesitantly, but he laid down.

            “Hat off,” you said, and he handed it up to you and fluffed his hair several times before he put his head back down on the floor.

            “If I get sick—"

            “I’ll take care of you,” you said.  You would.  You took care of Tae.  It wasn’t a big deal to you, but Namjoon stopped positioning himself and looked up at you.  Purposefully ignoring the way he was looking at you, you climbed up onto the seats on the side and walked around to get the best shot, taking several, before walking back to him.

            “It’s sunny,” he whined, and you placed your feet on either side of his chest and took a picture of him as his eyes were closed and his hand was over his face.  When he moved his hand and opened his eyes, he stared at you, surprised at how close you suddenly were to him.

            “How do you do that?” you said.

            “What?” he wanted to say jokingly, but his voice was way too low and quiet.

            “Look so good without any effort?”  You meant it as a legitimate question, but you realized that once again you might be flirting with Kim Namjoon, and you took his hat off from where you had placed it on your hat and squatted down to place it halfway on his head and halfway on his face.  Stepping to one side of him, you took another picture.

            “Y/N,” he said, his hand finding the top of your Converse as you squatted beside him.  It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t say anything, but after you took another picture you looked up at the camera crew who were over by the seats of the ride.  Looking down at Namjoon who was peeking up at you from underneath his cap, you said,

            “So you don’t want to lie on the floor but you’ll touch my dirty shoe?”

            “Ya,” he said, letting go and scurrying to stand up.  Smirking at him, you stood up, too, and the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon taking pictures and exploring the park.

            Perhaps your favorite part was a broken piano that sat in the middle of one of the streets.  The broken keys broke your heart, and you sat down gently on the seat and placed your hands delicately on them.

            “Gosh,” you said quietly, “what stories could you tell?” 

            [If you hadn’t been so immersed, you would have noticed Namjoon finally taking a picture of you.  It was his favorite part of the day, too, watching you sit there, clearly lost in your own world amidst the ruins of one that once was.]

            As the afternoon wore away, you and Namjoon climbed up the service ladder—him going first because you told him he needed to check if the ladder was safe but it was really because you didn’t want him watching your butt if you went up first—for the small roller-coaster to sit on the platform at the top and look out over the city.  There was no way for the camera crew to join you, but you knew your mics would still be on.  Still, there was something about the distance, and the small space, that made you draw neared to Namjoon.  You were honestly terrified of heights, so part of you smashing your leg and side into his was purely because you didn’t want to fall off, but you felt yourself relax as he didn’t move away or seem as nervous as you were.

            “Namjoon?” you said as you both looked forward.  He hummed at you.  “What do you do on days when you just don’t want to keep going anymore?  Not in a totally hopeless way, I just mean if you’re feeling tired or unmotivated?”

            “I take a break,” he said, shrugging, his shoulder rubbing against yours.  “Or the guys encourage me to keep going.”

            “What do you think you’d do without them?  Would you have gotten this far without them?”

            “Absolutely not,” Namjoon said, turning to look at you.

            “You’re really lucky, you know?” you said.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Having people who are there for you like that.”  He hummed again but didn’t say anything.  “I mean, what about people who don’t have someone they can rely on like that?”

            “I think those people are extra strong, if they are going through their life alone.”

            “And extra sad,” you said.  You didn’t wait for him to respond.  “But how do you know you’re not bothering them when you let them know you need help or attention or someone to just be with?”

            “There’s someone out there for everyone,” he said softly.

            “Yeah, but what if there isn’t?” you said, staring into your lap and running your bracelet back and forth along your wrist.

            "Do you really think that?” he finally said.

            "Honestly?” you said, and when he nodded you continued.  “I have to believe that.  If I don’t, if there is someone out there for everyone, then that just makes me sad because I don’t have that person.  If that makes sense.  I don’t even mean in a romantic sense, I just mean trusting there is someone out there who actually cares about you and your wellbeing.”

            “That’s—” Namjoon began, but a crowd of birds suddenly burst out behind the two of you from the nearby trees, squawking and swooping over your heads.

            “Fuck!” you said, clutching onto Namjoon’s leg as you felt yourself jerking forward from the surprise.  “Shit, sorry, edit that out!” you yelled down at the camera crew and waved one hand.  Namjoon was struggling to not laugh, and you realized your other hand was still clinging to Namjoon’s thigh, and you softened your grip but didn’t let go. 

            “Sorry about that,” you said to him, not sure if you meant the word or the fact that you were touching him.

            “ _You okay_?” he said, still trying not to laugh.

            “Can we go down please?”  To your relief he nodded, and you headed down the ladder with Namjoon following behind you.  “Namjoon,” you said when you had both reached the bottom, putting a hand on your stomach.  “Does this date come with food?  Because I’m starving.”

            “Oh, yeah, come here,” he said, leading you to what looked like what was once a food stand.  “What would you like?” he said, waving his hand over the empty, dusty counter.

            “I would like to smack you,” you said with a straight face, and he grinned mischievously at you.

            “Okay, okay, _let’s go eat._ ”  Clapping your hands again, you stopped a few more times to take some pictures on the way out.

            At dinner you both ate quickly, sharing casual stories and smiling at each other often.  By the time you were done the sun was setting, and you leaned back in your seat in the car, sighing in relief that the cameras had finally left you as Jisung drove the two of you home.

            “Did you have fun?” you heard Namjoon say as you closed your eyes.  You nodded, and then, thinking he might not be able to see you in the barely lit car, said,

            “Yeah, did you?”

            “Of course.  Send me some of those pictures?”

            “Nah, I need them for blackmail,” you said, not opening your eyes.

            “Uh,” he began.

            “I mean, how do I know you don’t have pictures of me?” you said, finally opening your eyes and cocking your head at him.  You meant it as a joke, but his face was so serious.  “Ah, Namjoon, I’m kidding.  Of course I’ll send you some.  But do send me any you took, too.”

            “Oh, okay, thanks.  Of course.”  You couldn’t help laughing again, your cheeks seriously worn out from the day, and noticed that there seemed to be something still on the tip of his tongue that he was waiting to say.  “ _Hey, just say it._ ”

            “Hmm?” he said.  He wanted to say it, you just knew it.

            “Whatever you’ve been wanting to say all day.”  You tried to turn toward him in your seat, a little constricted by your seatbelt.

            “Ah, well, the other night…when you were drunk.”  Oh.  Shit, here it comes.

            “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you said immediately.  “What did I do?”  It’s not that you couldn’t remember, exactly.  But you were innocent until proven guilty, so you waited for him to explain.

            “You…ah, nothing,” he said, looking down at his phone.

            “Uh, no,” you said, reaching over to swat at his phone; even though you missed on purpose, you just wanted him to put it down, which he did to look over at you.  “Please tell me.  I need to, want to, follow the rules, remember?”  Namjoon cleared his throat.

            “You put your head in my lap…”

            “Oh my god.  No, no, I’m so sorry,” you said, laughing in your embarrassment.  “And?  No, ah, what did I do?”

            “You said Yoongi was softer…”

            “Oh my god,” you said again, laughing but reaching out hold his arm, “I am so sorry.”  And you repeated an apology over and over again with your head hung low until he stopped you.  His voice was stern, and you stopped, rattled by his tone.

            “I…I didn’t mind.  I was just surprised.  And a bit confused,” he muttered when you let go of his arm.

            “I’m sure I was way too impaired to know if Yoongi was softer than you or not.  Besides,” you said, remembering more clearly now, “Yoongi cheated.  He had a pillow.”  You noticed Namjoon swallowed and looked away, but out the window this time, not at his phone.  “I’m not drunk now, so I could conduct the experiment again,” you said, and Namjoon turned back around to look at you.  You both didn’t say anything, just blinked a few times at each other, so you closed the space between you by wiggling as close to him as you could while still staying in your seat belt and rotated yourself before leaning slowly down and resting your head on his leg, your face looking up at him.  His hands did the same thing they had before; they hovered over you as if he totally didn’t know where to put them, but his eyes were still full of comfort if not also a little bit of hesitation.  After a moment you smiled up at him but said,

            “This is way more uncomfortable.” You could feel the seat buckle digging into your back, and you were scrunched up in a way your body wasn’t meant for.

            “Maybe it’s because of the seatbelts?” he offered. 

            “Are you suggesting I take it off?”

            “No,” Namjoon said, scoffing once and then licking his lips.

            “Do you like living on the edge?  Are you a dangerous guy, Kim Namjoon?”  His eyes flitted away from you at his name.

            “No,” he said, laughing.  Nervously.

            “Oh, sure, that’s believable,” you said, grunting dramatically as you sat up, rubbing your neck as you leaned back in your own seat.  “So what other embarrassing things did I do while drunk?”

            “Oh, nothing that I know of.  Or heard of.  I just wanted to remind you about the poems.  Yoongi and I have been working on a song.”  His voice had become professional again.

            “You were serious about that?” you said, your voice quiet.

            “Of course.”

            “Okay.  Cool.”

            The rest of the car ride was quiet.

            The walk from the car to the dorm was quiet.

            The ride in the elevator was quiet.

            But Namjoon stood behind you.  Closely.  As if the elevator was so packed that he needed to stand between you and some stranger.  As if he needed to protect you.  And he fingered the bottom of your shirt as if he was terrified to lose you in the crowd.

            But only two people stepped out of the elevator.

            And the walk to the door was quiet.

            And he opened the door.  And all was quiet inside.

            And you both stood in the kitchen, your eyes looking at anything but each other.  And it was quiet until you broke it.

            “Aren’t you going to walk me home?”  And Namjoon was quiet, but his smile was loud as he walked you to your door. 

            And your goodbyes were quiet.  Just small smiles at each other and slight head nods and a tiny wave as Namjoon walked down the hall to his own room.

            And your room was quiet.  And your night was quiet.

            There was nothing wrong with quiet.  Quiet was peaceful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so cute, eee.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your "date" with Jungkook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> Apart from the last "date," each was chosen randomly, so Jungkook was second.

**Day 22**

           You had never called a date a “little shit” before, and you never imagined ever calling anyone from BTS such a term, but you were pretty confident about there being a first time for everything.  And today would be the day you discovered Jungkook was a little shit.

           First, he wouldn’t tell you what you were going to do.  Even Mina wouldn’t tell you.  The only text you got that morning was from Jungkook that read,

           “ _Me today.  Studio, 4._ ”  Waiting until four sounded like torture, and you remembered that was one thing you hated about dating—or, “dating”—the anticipation beforehand.  Which annoyed you more, because nervous meant you expected something or were nervous that something wasn’t going to go as planned.  But you couldn’t have any expectations.  So the anxiety came from just filling your time and not trying to think too much about what Jungkook had planned.  Really not wanting to get sweaty or tired before the evening, you hung around the dorm again until it was time to head to the studio to meet Jungkook, deciding to wear gray tights, a black demin mini skirt and a short sleeve red and white shirt.

           At the studio you let Mina help you with your makeup and mic and waited outside of one of the rooms where the boys were practicing.  Your nerves were building, especially because Mina would be coming along.  You really didn’t have a problem with her, but it was going to be so awkward waiting around for translating, and you knew the flow of conversation and thus the entire interaction would be hard.  Overall, you knew you and Jungkook could understand each other’s language better than you could speak it, but having a translator there—not to mention a camera crew—was just another layer of awkward for you.

           It didn’t help that all of the boys came out of the door all at once, each giving you a smile or greeting, and Jungkook came out last, his hair being ruffled by Tae.

           “ _Good luck,_ ” Jimin was singing sweetly as he floated away.  And Jungkook slung his bag on his back and stuck a black hat on his head to go with his already all black outfit and said,

           “ _Ready_?”  So the second little shit thing Jungkook did was not shower after hours of practicing before a date—a “date”—with you.  No, that wasn’t the little shit thing.  The guy didn’t even smell.  Like a little shit should.  That’s what annoyed you.  Shrugging at him, you said,

           “Sure,” and resigned to your fate for the next few hours.  He rushed to the car, then, and you trailed after him, climbing in behind him in the car and shutting the door.  The little shit got on his phone immediately, and if this was an actual date, you would have gotten annoyed, but you just rolled your eyes and watched out the window, not at all going to be the one to start conversation.  This was his show.   You were just along for the ride.  When the car slowed down to stop, you looked out, wondering what you were doing at a bridge.  When Jungkook got out after you, you turned around to look at him, noticing him getting out a camera himself and adjusting the lenses.

           “Jungkook,” you finally said, “ _what are we doing?_ ”

           “Filming, filming,” he said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

           “Filming what?” you said.

           “You,” he said matter-of-factly.  This little shit wanted to film you?  This was sounding very much like a Jungkook date.

           “Doing what?” you said, though you knew there wasn’t going to be any fighting it.  He shrugged and waved his hand in front of him, as if that explained that.

           “Walk over the bridge,” he told you first, and, having no idea what he wanted, you left him standing there to walk across the bridge.  You just walked, looking around a few times and avoiding the other pedestrians, and it was only when you were halfway across when you heard someone yelling at you.  When you walked to the railing of the bridge, you saw the camera crew, Mina, and Jungkook on the shore below, waving at you.  You waved back once and turned back to re-join them.  As you walked up, Jungkook gave you a thumbs-up and you gave him one back. 

           “Wait, wait,” he said, the camera still in front of his face, “ _look more annoyed._ ”  Easy, you thought, when Mina told you what he wanted.  You approached Jungkook slowly, looking as annoyed and slightly angry as possible.  It honestly didn’t even feel like acting, and when you were a few in front of him you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.  The camera moved away from his face and he smiled at you.

           “Perfect,” he said.  “ _Next, next,_ ” he said, jogging back to the car.  Throwing Mina a confused look, you followed.  The little shit had the nerve to drag you around to four more locations, always getting out his camera and directing you to walk that way, say this, look happy, now look away, eat this icecream, all without explaining what the point of all of this was.  Your annoyance slowly faded, however, as you took to watching him whenever he was filming or looking at a shot on his camera or walking around a location aiming for the perfect shot.  You noticed how even with a facemask on you could tell when he was smiling.  Even under his cap you could see when he was frowning.  You noticed how his nose would twitch when he was pleased with a shot or how he would pull his facemask down to pull a funny face to make you laugh or incite you to make one back.  You noticed how confident and comfortable he seemed behind his camera even though he was also being filmed at the same time.  And you noticed how he would sometimes take your hand or place his hand on your back or hip to place you where he wanted. 

           [And if you could see his eyes, and his mouth, and his face behind his mask and behind his camera, you would have noticed how his looks were of admiration and wonder, how excited he was knowing he was showing you things you had never seen and was getting to film your genuine reactions the whole time.  You would have noticed that even if he didn’t have his camera, his eyes would have recorded every detail of your face and ever move of your body and stored them for later.]

           And at the fifth location, a seemingly endless field of grass and wildflowers that you also couldn’t help taking a dozen of pictures of, you held a bundle of flowers behind your back and Jungkook filmed you from behind.  When you figured he had enough shots of your butt, you turned around, holding the flowers in front of your face.

           “Wait, wait,” Jungkook said, and you did, standing there with your eyes closed as you heard him approaching you slowly, his legs swishing through the grass.  When you heard him whisper “Okay,” your eyes opened and widened in surprise as the camera was so close to you, but you laughed and pushed the flowers into his chest.

           “Ya,  _I’m hungry._ ”

           “Okay, let’s go,” he said, a completely satisfied smile on his face as he put the camera down and walk back through the field.  You threw the bouquet of flowers at his back, but they fell to the ground before they met their mark.

 

           You realized you had gotten pretty lucky all day with not being noticed.  Most of the places Jungkook had stopped at hadn’t been really busy, but now, as it was dinner time and Jungkook wanted to go to a specific restaurant, you were keenly aware of how impossible it was going to be for a famous idol, a manager, a bodyguard, and three other crew and staff to remain inconspicuous.  Sure enough, everyone noticed when you all entered, and you found yourself standing close to Mina instead of Jungkook, but when you were given your tables she purposefully made you sit next to Jungkook while she sat across from you so the camera could just face in one direction.  You knew it was rude, but when you noticed Jungkook didn’t take off his hat, you pulled the attached hood your shirt had on to hide your face a bit.  Sighing, really hating being filmed while you ate, you shrank in the seat a little and looked around uneasily.

           “What do you want?” Jungkook said, his voice sounding too loud.

           “You pick,” you said, not looking at the menu.  “ _No fish_.”  He hummed in response and rattled off a list of items to the waitress and then took to drinking an entire glass of water.  “ _Hey, so,_ ” he said, bringing on of his legs to rest on the seat and rotating himself to face you more.  His leg brushing against yours was enough for you to turn around and look at him, wondering what the little shit wanted.

           “ _You have two brothers?_ ”

           “ _Yeah, why?_ ”

           “ _Are you close_?”

           “ _Honestly_?” you said, and he nodded, but you glanced at Mina for a moment before looking back at the boy, knowing you were going to need her help, so she sat there and quietly translated for the both of you.  “What do you think older brothers should do?  Be like?”

           “ _Ah, protective and supportive.  But they have to give you a hard time, too._ ”

           “My brothers were good at that.  They were pretty protective of me as a kid.  We’ve kind of gone our separate ways as adults, though.”

           “ _I see,_ ” Jungkook said, and you were both momentarily distracted as your food arrived.  You let Jungkook make you a plate and then himself one before you ate, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.

           “ _Okay,_ ” he said with his mouthful after a few moments, his legs back in front of him under the table, “ _have you ever been in love_?”  You almost choked, so you took a sip of water before answering.

           “Uh,  _no.  I thought._ I thought I was at one point.”

           “ _How did you know?_ ”

           “That I wasn’t?” you said, and he nodded when Mina translated for you.  “When I realized he didn’t love me, he just wanted things from me.”  Jungkook nodded slowly, and you ate even slower and less.

           “ _How do you think people know_?”

           “Geez, Jungkook, I don’t know,” you said, resisting a sigh.  You hadn’t meant to sound short with him; it was a legitimate question that you asked yourself all the time.  You didn’t know the answer, and that frustrated you.  “But being in love doesn’t matter.  Love does.”  The boy looked at you from under his cap—which, by the way, if you were dating would have annoyed you, because it’s rude to wear a hat inside, but any bit of clothing to protect his identity was reassuring for him and you had your hood up, so this entire situation was just all rude—and his eyes narrowed.  “Real love is beyond a feeling.  It’s a choice.  It’s hard,” you said, taking one last bite before putting down your chopsticks.  You lifted one of your legs up onto the seat and rotated to face him more directly, placing your elbow on the table and your head in your hand.  You watched him for a minute, his attention seemingly fully fixed on his food, but when his eyes shifted over to you and he smiled with his mouth full you couldn’t help but smile at him.

           “Okay, okay,” he said, waving his chopsticks in the air.

           “Ya, gross,” you said, as some rice flew off of them.

           “ _But how do you know if someone loves you_?”

           “Oh,” you said, your eyes roaming around again, and you swear you made eye contact with at least ten strangers, so you turned your attention back to Jungkook and tried to pretend no one else was around.  “Well, everyone loves and experiences love differently.”  Jungkook nodded at this, so you went on.  “For me, if someone does something for me, likes washing the dishes or, I don’t know, rubs my shoulders after a long day, that makes me feel loved.  Or if someone writes me a sweet note or tells me I’m doing well or they appreciate me.  Those sort of things.  Do you know about love languages?”  He shook his head as he took another bite.  “Ah, it’s this idea that there are five love languages.  So everyone feels loved a certain way and expresses love in a way.  Sometimes it’s the same.  The five are Words of Affirmation, like encouraging words, physical touch, that one’s obvious, acts of service, which is doing things for someone, getting gifts, and quality time, like just being with someone is important to you.  For me, I experience love through words of affirmation and acts of service.  I tend to give love through the same way, though I also love giving and sharing quality time.”  You shrugged and then picked your head off your hand.  “Oh, you should take the test.”  At the word “test,” Jungkook’s ears perked up, and he looked at you hesitantly.  “It’s short,” you said, laughing at his apprehensive face.  “Ah, Mina, all the boys should take one,” you told her, and she searched through Naver until she found one that you confirmed looked correct.  Handing her phone to Jungkook, Mina watched as you tried not to look over as he answered.

           After a few minutes he handed the phone back to Mina, who said,

           “Words of affirmation and quality time.”

           “Ah,  _I’m not surprised,_ ” you said.

           “ _Really?_ ” Jungkook said, eyeing you.

           “ _Really._ I’ll make sure to encourage you a lot,” you said, smiling at him.

           “ _What about the others_?”

           “Hmm, Jimin is words of affirmation for sure,” you said, “and I imagine Tae is physical touch and Yoongi is quality time probably.  I’m not sure, but we should definitely find out.”  Some commotion behind you near the door made Jungkook’s eyes dart, and you started to turn your head around, but you felt his hand rest on your knee.

           “ _You ready to go_?”  You nodded, and before you knew it he was pushing you gently out of your seat and then gently through the restaurant, guiding you from behind with his shoulder and his head down, and once you were on the street you could feel people closing in; you weren’t even sure where they had come from, and his steps became faster behind you, so you increased your pace until you were both jogging to the car.  He swung the door open for you and hopped in quickly after you, slamming the door and leaning his back against it.  You had tried to scoot quickly to your seat to give him room, but you found that you couldn’t move anyway and instead were falling back, as Jungkook’s hands had found your waist and he pulled you back down.  One of his legs lay straight on the seats and another hung over the side, resting on the floor, and you found yourself between them, your back pressed against Jungkook’s chest.

           [If you could have seen his face, you would have realized how panicked he looked and known how guilty he felt about exposing you to this part of his world that he secretly hated and only wanted to protect you from.]

           “Ah,” you said softly, but that’s all you could manage as you felt him drop his forehead onto your shoulder.

           “ _I’m sorry_.”  There were no cameras around, the little shit, and he only picked up his head and let go of you when the driver opened the door and Mina got into the passenger seat.

           “Sorry about that,” you heard Mina echo as you cleared your throat and buckled your seat belt.  “I might have to do a little clean up.  Do you think you can handle the rest by yourself?”  She was asking you, and even though you didn’t know what you were supposed to do next, you found yourself nodding.  After Mina explained the plan to Jungkook, she left the car again.  The look on Jungkook’s face was a little concerned, so you broke the silence first by asking him what you were doing next.

           “Bowling,” he said, his face lighting up.

           “What a Jungkook thing to do,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

 

           You loved bowling, actually, but you didn’t get to go often enough to be at all considered good at it.  This wouldn’t really matter much, except you were also super competitive, and you hated losing.  The problem was that you knew Jungkook would beat you, but you still held onto some desire to win.  However, as he politely kicked your butt, you decided halfway through the game to just have fun, and you went with a variety of different styles, anything to just get the ball to the pins and not in the lanes.  You weren’t always successful, but as the night wore on and Jungkook beat you once and then again, you felt yourself getting more and more loopy from all of the laughing.  By the third game you were so tired you just sat and rolled the ball for your turns and lay on the floor when it was Jungkook’s turn, trying to act as a road block to him, or stood up and waved your hand in his line of vision to try to distract him.  You even resorted to standing two inches behind him and mimicked his moves once, but when he stopped, his arm already halfway behind him, and turned around and sternly said,

           “Stop,  _you’ll get hurt,_ ” you stuck your tongue out at him but kept your distance after that.

           [If he had turned his face all the way around, you would have seen the smile on his face indicating he really didn’t want you to stop but he knew the right thing was to get you to stop.]

           You weren’t one to come in-between someone playing a game seriously when you just wanted to have fun.  When you had three turns left in your last game, you sat on the sidelines, laughing at how uneven the score board was.  He was sitting beside you, and he poked your knee, pointing up at the board.

           “Your turn.”

           “Will you do it for me?” you almost whined, and you clapped when he did.  And you threw all of the compliments you could at him, praising him excessively, until finally, after he had finished the game by himself, he came over to you put a hand on your mouth, his cheeks flushed from all the bowling.  No, the little shit was blushing because he liked you complimenting him.  You smiled under his hand and then moved it away.

           “ _You like it,_ ” you said, smirking at him, and he blinked at you once before turning to the camera crew and saying,

           “ _Okay, we’re done, wrap it up, let’s go home._ ”  The staff did as he instructed, shuffling around.  When he turned back to you, his eyes were a little dark, and he opened his mouth to say something, but you stood up and walked away before he had a chance to.  In the car you purposefully didn’t scoot all the way over, so when he got in, he hovered for a moment before sitting next to you, buckling his seatbelt slowly.  After what had happened in the car earlier, you were a little surprised about how stiff he seemed, especially since there was not a camera around and he had been way closer to you earlier in some ways.  A theory started to develop in your mind, and as the driver took off you leaned against Jungkook until your head rested on his shoulder…his very stiff shoulder.  And, to be a little shit yourself, you wrapped your arm around his until you held his hand, his long fingers intertwining with yours.  You could feel him shifting his head to look at what you were doing, and while he didn’t pull away, the air wasn’t comfortable, and after only a few seconds you let go of his hand and pulled your arm out.  Lifting your head off of his shoulder, you stretched your legs as far as they could go and placed your hands on your knees, drumming them a bit.  You could feel Jungkook watching you, but when you didn’t look back at him his gaze wandered to the windows, and you rode the rest of the way in silence.

           You made a mental note to never initiate skinship with Jungkook but to always reciprocate if he reached out to you first.  While after tonight you really couldn’t imagine why he would, it was still good to know.

           Your eyes were heavy in the elevator as you watched Jungkook lean against the wall, his figure looking good in such a stance and him knowing it.  The little shit.  And you walked behind him and entered the dorm after him, the parting of the evening seeming to be just like returning home on a normal day.  But as you grabbed a glass of water, you felt him ruffling your hair from behind.

           “ _Thanks for hanging out,_ ” he said.  You turned around slowly, putting your glass down.

           “ _Please don’t do that again,_ ” you said, extremely seriously.  You couldn’t stand people ruffling your hair, as it seemed very condescending.

           “ _Oh, sorry,_ ” he mumbled, but then the little shit smirked.  “ _I forgot you were sensitive._ ”

           You took one step toward him and mumbled,

           “I’ll show you  _sensitive,_ ” and your hands, moving quickly but gently all at the same time, found the bottom of his shirt, and his eyes flew to your hands that pulled his shirt away from his chest toward you so your hands could make their way underneath it, and your fingers spread out along his lower stomach.  His muscles immediately reacted by tightening, and he took one step away from you, his eyes wide.  You brushed your thumbs along his skin and he said, almost yelling,

           “Ya!”  Laughing, you pulled your hands out and patted his chest before leaving the kitchen with your water.

           You don’t know why exactly you did it.  Maybe it was because you knew that it would make him nervous.  As you lay in bed that night, you had to admit to yourself that maybe you were the bigger little shit than he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little shit.  
> Also, I really wish we knew the boy's love languages.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your "date" with Jimin.  
> Apart from the last one, the "dates" were chosen randomly, so here's Jimin's!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> I had originally planned an unknown/random song for the dance, but then "The Truth Untold" came out, and I cry every time.

**Day 23**

            You told Jungkook to put a shirt on when you saw him in the kitchen the next morning, and he smirked this time and looked triumphant, not embarrassed, but he left the room to obey while Jin looked between you two.

            “Good day yesterday?” Jin says, taking bites of his breakfast.  You almost tell Jin how much of a little shit Jungkook is, but you don’t, because he probably knows that already, and that’s probably one reason why he loves him so much.  So for an answer you simply nod.

            “ _Are we hanging out today?_ ”

            “Nope,” Jin said, smiling at you, “ _didn’t you get the note?_ ”  When you cocked your head in confusion, he led you back to your door, where a sticky note had been left.  It simply read _I’m excited!_ Wait.  Ripping the note off, you took it to your desk, where you opened your drawer and pulled out the note you had found on your desk on day one.  They were identical; the handwriting, the note.  But there was still no name.  As you pondered over who had written the notes, your phone buzzed from where you had left it plugged in by your phone.

            “Did you see all the stuff about Jungkook?” One of your friends from back home.  You had only recently gotten to know her—your love of BTS and good food brought you together—so you didn’t know much about her, but your heart flipped regardless at her message.

            “What? No, what?” you sent back, trying not to let your hands shake.

            “Apparently he was with some girl.  It’s all over Twitter.”  Oh.  That was you.

            “What??  I’ll check it out!”  Mina had said she’d take care of it, but anyone last night could have taken a picture and posted it.  Once a picture was on Twitter or somewhere else, thousands if not millions of people could have saved it even if the picture was taken down.  Sinking into your bed, you got on Twitter to see, sure enough, several posts and pictures of Jungkook, but no pictures of you.  Well, that was one of you getting in the car, but it was blurry and from far away.  And one of you in the restaurant, but your face was obstructed.  Still, it was enough for you to worry and to call Mina.

            “Good morning,” you heard her on the other line, “I was just about to text you.  Can you be at the studio by ten?”

            “Yes, Mina, what’s the situation with the pictures from last night?”  Why were you so worried?  You hadn’t done anything wrong.

            “It’s being taken care of.  Why do you ask?”

            “One of my friends texted me,” you said, and Mina’s tone changed.

            “Oh, did she recognize you?”

            “No, but,” you started, but Mina sighed into your ear.

            “Don’t worry about it.  I’ll send Jisung to pick you up.”

            “Okay,” you said, still uneasy about the whole thing.  “who am I with today?”

            “You’ll see when you get here,” she said, and you could tell she was smiling.

            “Yeah, but what do I wear?”

            “I believe the direct instructions were ‘something you can sweat in.’”  You wanted to ask her to clarify, but you simply hung up and lowered your head.  There were already two things about this situation that made you nervous.  One, you hated surprises.  You liked your life planned, organized, controlled.  You would never go on a blind date back home, for instance.  Second, sweating did not sound like the start to a good date.  Besides hiking or walking, there was no form of exercising you would ever want to do on a date, as one of the goals on a date is to catch the eye and appear attractive to the other person, and there was something about sweat and heavy breathing that didn’t scream sexy.  So you weren’t sure which boy thought exercise clothes was going to be a good idea because he had clearly read you wrong.  You knew it wasn’t Namjoon, Jungkook, or Jin, and there was no way Yoongi would willingly exercise, and a large part of you just believed it wouldn’t be Tae, so you went back and forth between Jimin and J-Hope as you got dressed and sat in the car making small talk with Jisung.

            So you really weren’t surprised when it was Jimin who came out of a door to great you once you arrived at the studio.  Brushing his blonde hair out of his face with his hand, he gave you an excited smile.

            “ _Did you get my note?_ ” he asked shyly.

            “ _Note?_ ” you asked, and when Mina clarified behind you, your eyes widened.  “ _You wrote that?_ ”  Jimin nodded, perhaps a little worried by the way you were looking at him, but you could only laugh.

            “He wrote me a note the first day,” you explained to Mina, who translated for you.

            “ _I did?  I don’t remember,_ ” he said and shrugged it off.  “ _You ready_?”  You nodded, but also added,

            “ _For what?_ ”

            “Dancing,” he said, as if it was the most normal answer in the world, and you inwardly groaned but smiled for the camera, your heart immediately racing.  What kind of dancing was Jimin talking about here?

            The studio was bright but empty, and Jimin jogged to the center of the room, his hair bouncing.  He waved you over, and you followed him reluctantly, like a kid who knew his mom was about to make him do something he absolutely hated.  Really, really, why couldn’t Jimin understand what dancing did to you?

            “Stretch time,” Jimin said, and proceeded to stretch in ways no human should be able to.  It’s not like you were a board; among your friends you were actually pretty flexible, but you had only lasted in gymnastics for one year and ballet for another, and that was when you were a kid.  Jimin did this for a living, so to say you were self-conscious was an understatement.  So when Jimin asked you which choreography you knew, you had a feeling what he had in mind, so your answer came out pretty hesitantly,

            “Uh, ‘Go Go,’ ‘Baepsae,’ ‘DNA,’ some of ‘Blood, Sweat, and Tears,’ some of ‘Boy in Luv,’ and…” you stopped, eyeing Jimin’s face.  His eyebrows were currently wiggling at you.

            “ _You know ‘Blood, Sweat, and Tears’_?”

            “Just the chorus part, _jump, jump,_ ” you said, miming the part without moving much.

            “Ah!  Show me!”  You tilted your head back and audibly groaned at his request.  There was something about his face that made you want to punch him and hug him all at the same time.

            “ _Fine, fine, but you sing._ ”  He nodded and immediately began singing the chorus, so you back up and half-heartedly did the choreography until the time came to jump, and you leapt high and moved your feet quickly, completely the moves relatively well considering how rusty you were.  After the second jump you basically stopped and stood there staring at him, your lips pressed together.  Jimin clapped for you.

            “ _Another!_ ”  Your head dropped this time, and you laughed in your discomfort, but said,

            “Okay, okay, ‘Go Go.’  _But you dance too._ ”  Jimin waved his hand at you, trying to weasel his way out of it, making excuses about not remembering the choreography well.  “ _Whatever,_ ” you said, scoffing and dragging his hand to put him in front of the mirror.  “ _Do your part._   I’m used to having others dance with me.”

            “ _Who are you?_ ” he said, pointing as you as you pulled your phone out to get the song ready.

            “Suga,” you said, smiling. 

            [If you had been looking in the mirror, you would have seen Jimin’s smile twitch and then widen.]

            “ _Why, why_?”

            “ _Ah, I don’t dance,_ ” you explained.  “ _It was him or Namjoon or Jin._ ”  Jimin laughed at this and nodded.  So, while it was awkward doing a dance meant for seven people with only two, you danced the entire song through pretty well despite the fact that you hadn’t practiced in a long time and despite having to let Jimin catch up with you a few times and despite your breathing quickening from laughing at the whole situation too many times.  When you were done, Jimin’s smile was even wider, and he clapped his hands again.

            “Okay, okay, take a break,” Jimin said, pulling your hand to the mirror and letting you sit down.  You looked up at him, wondering why his voice always got deeper when he spoke in English, and pondered what he had in store next.  “I want to show you something,” he said, going to the center of the room again.  “You know ‘ _The Truth Untold’_?”  You clicked your mouth, and heard Mina translate for you—you had forgotten for a moment she was there, and you cringed remembering you had just been filmed dancing.  “ _I made a dance for it.  Now, it will look weird with just me,_ ” he laughed, “ _but don’t worry, the spaces will be filled._ ”  And someone played the music from somewhere.

            And Jimin danced.

            It was slow.

            It was haunting.

            It was beautiful.

            And there was something about this song that always broke you a little.  Just a little.  But just enough.  By the time Jimin was done you had to wipe a tear away from your eye but smiled up at him, eternally grateful for him sharing his time, his dance, himself with you.

            [And if you hadn’t been so caught up in watching Jimin move, you would have noticed he noticed, and his heart broke while soaring all at the same time, and his steps became lighter every time he looked at you.]

            You clapped for him and praised him in Korean as best as you could, and his smile somehow widened, and he bowed his head to you before he was pulling you to your feet.

            “ _I need you now,_ ” he said, as if that was the most normal thing in the world to say to someone.  “ _See, see, there’s a girl part,_ ” he explained, dropping your hand and showing you.  He went back and forth between the guy and girl part, his movements almost mirrored in parts and vastly different in certain parts of the song.  The girl’s part was much easier, as it was slower and not as involved, but you still doubted yourself.  Somehow, though you knew it was taking too long, you started to pick up the steps and moved alongside Jimin, rarely looking at yourself in the mirror but watching him, instead.  His voice in correcting you was always quiet, and he rarely needed any translating, as he would move you as he directed you, his hands soft and light on your clothes or your skin.  When you seemed confident dancing the part on your own, Jimin took his position and signaled for the music to start.  And somehow, right then and there, it was just you and Jimin, and you realized you loved dancing, you had always loved dancing.  It brought confidence from controlling how your body moved and how it moved next to someone else like nothing else could.  And right then, right there with Jimin, it felt like the most normal thing in the world.

 

            When Jimin seemed satisfied with how the dance was coming along, or when he finally heard your stomach growling too loudly, you both stopped, laughing at how exhausted and yet happy you both were.  He excused himself to grab his stuff before heading home, so you went to check with Mina about the picture fiasco.

            “Everything is fine,” she said, putting her hand up before you could say anything.  You hummed at her, wiping more sweat off of your forehead.  “You could post something so people would think you were in the states.”  It came off as a suggestion, but it sounded like a command, and your eyes narrowed.

            “I thought that was against the rules.”

            “I mean a picture from home.  Not one you’ve taken here.”

            “Okay, and make it look like I’m at home?  So, lie?”

            “It’s not like that,” Mina said, but her eyes shifted away from you, and you knew she knew you were right, but you also softened your tone toward her, as you understood she was just trying to do her job.

            “Mina, I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal.  All I’m saying is, what do I do later when people find out I was actually in Korea for the summer?  So not only did I lie to them about where I was, I double lied by saying I was actually home?”  And the next thing that Mina said, while she meant well and wanted the best for the boys, was in your top five least favorite things to ever hear from someone,

            “You’re thinking too hard about this.”  Thinking too hard?  Someone had to think about these things.  It wasn’t fair that it always seemed to be you.  You almost got annoyed with Mina, almost explained to her why it was a bad idea, but you saw Jimin coming back in the room on his phone, and you only sighed.

            “Okay, I’ll post something,” you said, trying to keep your tone obedient and not condescending or sarcastic.  You went to look through your oldest pictures; you hadn’t left many on your phone storage when you came overseas, but you did have a few you had taken that you had never posted, so you picked one of a flower you had taken in your garden and, after editing it a bit, posted it on Instagram with the caption: While I feel like dying in the summer heat, this little guy is going strong.

            Putting your phone away so you could pay attention to Jimin in the car, you noticed that unlike Namjoon and Jungkook, Jimin scooted to the middle seat to sit next to you as if it was the most normal thing in the world and continued to talk with his hands or point things out through the window as you drove back to the dorm.  At one point his left hand found your right one lying on the seat, and he rested it there while he leaned over you excitingly explaining something you were passing.  His whole demeanor was so soft and gentle that you couldn’t help but smile at him, and as he leaned back in his seat you squeezed his hand, causing him to look at you with raised eyebrows.

            “ _Thank you for today,_ ” you said, and he smiled and nodded at you as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

 

            If nothing else, today definitely taught you that Jimin was clingy.  If you were dating, you realized it might actually be annoying, as you really weren’t used to being touched this much.  But for now, it was temporary, and you soaked it up, laughing as he held your hand and swung your arms back and forth as you walked down the hall to the dorms.  Even though it was still the afternoon, you both planned to change into pajamas after showering and lounge on the living room floor.  You were resting with your elbows propping up your head, scrolling on your phone for music to play and to have the translator app around if needed since Mina and the camera crew had left.  When Jimin came down the hall, his hair still wet on his face, he said something about you being fast, to which you replied,

            “It’s not my job to look pretty.”  He seemed to understand, because he laughed—but he laughed a lot—and set up the camera underneath the table so you both could lie on the floor but still be filmed.  When he joined you on the ground with a pillow placed under him, his face was extremely close to yours, and you resisted an urge to squeeze his cheeks.

            “ _What’s the plan_?” you said.  He had put something on the table when he had come in, and his arms reached over the both of you now, fishing around for it.  Making a face at the camera while you waited, you scooted back a bit as Jimin brought down a stack of papers and a container of pens.

            “ _We’re going to write letters,_ ” he said.

            “ _To who?_ ” you said.

            “The boys,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.  You face began to glow.  It was the cutest but also one of the sincerest things you could do.  You were better with writing down your words than spilling them out of your mouth, so you highly approved of this plan, and said so.  The two of you set to work, selecting paper and alternating between staring at each other or off into space as you thought and scribbling furiously.  At one point Jimin tried to look over at who you were writing to, but you hide the paper, which only made him more curious. 

            “ _No,_ ” you said, holding his head back with your hand.  “Not yet.”

            “Humph,” he sighed but returned to his spot.  You couldn’t help stealing glances up at him as he tapped his pen or bit the end of it while he thought.

            [And he stole glances at you, too, while your eyes were on your paper.]

            You were humming along to your music when your phone buzzed, and you lazily glanced at the text that had popped up.  Your bodily visibly stilled when you saw the name, though, and Jimin noticed.  Looking up, he asked,

            “ _Who’s that_?”

            “Ah,” you said, looking your phone and then at the camera watching you and then at Jimin before your phone again.

            “ _B needs to make a call, so goodbye,_ ” Jimin said in a sing-song voice as he reached under the camera and waved at it before turning it off.  “ _Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked._ ”  You hummed but shook your head, holding your phone in your hand and looking at the text.

            “I’m glad to hear you’re alive.  The heat is awful.”  How like him.  Jimin waited patiently for you and went back to his letter, knowing it was none of his business but wanting to make sure you were okay at the same time.

            “Big bird,” you suddenly said, and Jimin’s head cocked.  “ _The guy,_ ” you tried to explain.  “ _I, uh, call him that._ ”

            “ _That guy_?” Jimin said, wanting to make sure he understood.  You nodded, and Jimin sat up and came to lean against the couch so he could sit closer to you.  “Why big bird?”

            “He has a big nose,” you said, pointing to your own.  “There’s a TV show, a kid’s TV show, with a character,” you shook your head at the absurdity of it as you assumed the same position next to Jimin, glad to move from the floor anyway.  Jimin’s arm reached around your shoulder as it was the most normal thing in the world, and you felt yourself lean into him as you sighed.  You sat like that for a moment, the text pulled up on your screen, until Jimin shifted a bit.  If had been anyone else asking, you don’t know if you would have answered, but he was gentle and purely wanted to understand you. 

            “ _Did you love him_?”

            “I thought I did,” you said, not wanting to worry about translating.  Sometimes some things could be understood even when the words are unclear.  “I loved the idea of him?  No, I did love him.  _I loved him._   But it was wrong, _wrong,_ the wrong kind of love.”

            “ _Why did you love him_?”  You started a bit at the question, part of you not wanting to think any positive thoughts about the guy, but Jimin’s hand on your shoulder tightened, so you let yourself sigh again.

            “He was passionate about people.  He always wanted to help people.  But he was terrible with individuals.  He was super selfish.  And he was so smart.  So he knew when he was being an ass but didn’t change the way he acted.”  You put your phone down on the table and removed yourself from Jimin’s arm so you could face him, your hands trying to explain as you spoke.  Jimin just leaned against the couch, his head in his hand, and watched you intently.  “When it was just the two of us in a room, it was like I was all that mattered.  But the second we stepped out, the truths would hit me.  He had a girlfriend.  I was the…the other girl,” you scrunched your face at the term, “and I knew that.  I think I started to let things happen because I hated myself for letting him do that to me.  If that makes any sense.”  You rested your head against the couch, too, and looked at Jimin.  “ _I’m sorry.  I wish I knew more Korean._ ”  His hand flew to your knee and gave it a light squeeze.

            “ _No,_ ” he said, “ _don’t apologize.  I wish I knew more English,_ ” and Jimin let out a light laugh.  “ _But I think I understand.  This guy hurt you.  That’s all that matters._ ”

            “Ah, I let myself get hurt,” you said, but Jimin shook his head.

            “ _No, he was wrong._ ”

            “Well, it takes two to tango, if you know the expression.”  He didn’t.  “ _We were both wrong_.”  Jimin looked like he wanted to disagree with you, but also like he didn’t want to push the subject.  Instead, he hummed, thinking.

            “Does he know us?” Jimin finally said.

            “Uh, I doubt it.  _No_?”  You watched as Jimin thought again for a moment, and you wondered what he was up to.

            “You should send a picture,” he said, pointing at your phone.  “To him.”

            “Of me?” you said, your eyebrows rising when Jimin nodded.  Your next word came slowly.  “ _Why_?”

            “ _So he knows how happy you are without him.  How alive you are._ ”  You caught enough of his words to understand what his plan was, so you couldn’t help but laugh.

            “What?  _Make him jealous_?  That’s pretty petty.”  Jimin just shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face.  “Jimin, are you really petty?”

            “Am I pretty?”

            “Petty,” you said, emphasizing the word but also laughing.  Jimin shrugged again and picked up your phone, immediately going through your pictures.  You hand rose for a minute to stop him, but you just saddled up beside him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you watched him.  The latest pictures were from yesterday’s adventures with Jungkook, and you noticed how Jimin went slowly, taking in every shot, his smile alternating between serious and excited, content and amused.

            “This, this,” he finally said, selecting one of you in the vast field of grass and flowers.  Who had taken it?  Jungkook?  Mina?  Jisung?  You honestly couldn’t remember, and you honestly didn’t know.  It couldn’t have been Jungkook; he had his own camera.  And you thought Mina had been holding your phone while Jungkook was filming you from behind.  But the picture screamed Jisung, the way you somehow looked better than you thought you could in a picture.  Your face was profiled, and you had a faraway look in your eyes but a slight smile on your lips, and the bundle of flowers hung limply at your side.  You could almost feel yourself blush, and you frantically tried to stop Jimin, your shouts futile as he just lifted the phone out of your reach and sent the picture to the guy.

            “Okay, _next,_ ” he said, returning to the photos.  You buried your face into his back this time, and you swear you just knew he was laughing at you.  You hid yourself for a few moments until you hear him say “Oh, wow, _did you take this_?”  Knowing you had to look, you lifted your head to see one of the pictures you had taken of Namjoon at the park two days ago.  Pressing your lips together, you nodded.  “Wow, _Namjoon looks good._ ”  You laughed and poked Jimin’s side, causing him to flinch but also laugh.  “ _Let’s send this one, too,_ ” he said, selecting a picture of Namjoon and you at the park gate.  You honestly, a little bit to your horror, looked like a couple with your complimentary colors and opposite hats.  And the way you were looking at each other, each of you making an odd but sweet face…

            “Jimin, _no_ ,” you said firmly, but for some reason you were still smiling.  “Jimin,” you practically whined as he attached the photo.  Your legs started to bounce, your whole body started to bounce, “ _Don’t,_ ” you tried again, but Jimin only turned his face toward you, a smile stuck on his face, and he wiggled his eyebrows once before pushing send.  “Oh my god,” you groaned, “Mina’s going to kill me.”  Obviously feeling very accomplished, Jimin handed your phone back to you, and you held it in both hands, dreading what was going to happen next.  Having no cares in the world at all, Jimin started to clean up and came back with his phone, flopping on the couch behind you, sometimes looking over your shoulder but otherwise just occupying himself.  You almost jumped, and your stomach certainly did, when a text came in.

            “Whoa, looks cool!  Where are you?”

            “Jimin,” you whined, leaning your head back on the couch and staring at him upside down, but he didn’t say anything as he frowned—well, an upside-down smile—down at you.  “I can’t believe you,” you whispered fiercely as you sent a text back.

            “Exploring!  Hope your summer is going well.”  You were pretty sure he sent something back about how awful work was, or whatever, and of course he didn’t, or did he, comment on the guy, and how cool the abandoned park was, and he probably definitely asked where you were, and blah blah blah, you didn’t care.  You truly, honestly, didn’t care.  A few years ago you would have.  Some part of had you still wanted his attention and had still gotten butterflies whenever he texted you.  Now you were completely disinterested, because why would you be?  Nothing about the guy attracted you anymore.  You had learned and had moved on ages ago.  You weren’t going to let him run or ruin your life, so you looked back at Jimin and said,

            “I hate you.”  But he knew you didn’t mean it, and you knew you didn’t mean it.  And Jimin scooted on the couch a bit and patted the space beside him, and you stood up and looked down at him, and then, as it if was the most normal thing in the world, you laid down on your side next to him.  The couch was wide enough for there to be plenty of space between the two of you, but Jimin placed his hand gently on your hip, and you moved slightly back until you were pressed against him, and you felt his chest against your back rising and falling as he breathed deeply.  You stiffened a bit when you felt his head on your head, and then his lips pressing through your hair against your scalp, but it was so soft you almost didn’t know what it was, and then Jimin’s arm was hanging across your stomach, and you flinched again but you heard him shush you, and you knew his face was smiling, so you willed yourself to relax.  And you did.  You finally did when you heard his breath deepen and his muscles relax as he fell asleep, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

 

            And that’s how some of the boys found you later when they returned home, you playing on your phone in sleeping Jimin’s arms.  Part of you wanted to jump up immediately when the door opened, as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong, but the couch and Jimin’s chest and the way one of his legs has slipped in between yours is so comfortable and all you can manage is a smile as the door opens.  Your smile definitely falters, however, when it’s Jin that comes in first, and while he smiles back at you, you know that smile.  It’s a strained smile, and he’s eyeing Jimin and then you before he nods and heads to his room.  Namjoon is behind him, busying on his phone, but he looks up because Jin’s steps have slowed and he almost runs into him.  He mutters a

            “ _Jin, wh—_ ” before he looks up at you, and you’re trying to not be bothered by Jin and just want Namjoon to smile at you, that reassuring smile that means he’s okay and knows you’re okay, but instead his smile comes with raised eyebrows and a return to his phone and a mumbled apology as he walks past, and by the time you see J-Hope behind him your smile is gone.  And Tae and Jungkook are there, too, and if you were actually on a date, actually dating Jimin, you would have been annoyed, but at the moment you were just grateful when the three of them ignored the finger on your lips and came over to bother Jimin.  Anything to distract you from whatever those looks from Jin and Namjoon were.  Jungkook sat down by his head, and thus by your head, and started to stroke his hair, cooing at him.  J-Hope sat at his feet and started to rub his leg, pulling it away from yours.  You might have groaned a little in annoyance. 

            “You should move,” you heard Tae say, and you looked up to see him holding out his hand for you.  Rolling your eyes, you took it, and as you left Jimin’s grasp he finally started to wake up, but as you stood up, Tae dove into your spot and pulled Jimin’s arm tightly around him.

            “Tae!” Jimin was saying with a groggy voice, and he really did sound annoyed, but as Jungkook massaged his head, and J-Hope played with his legs, and Tae turned to face him, curling into his chest, you saw him smile at you.  And his hand that was resting on Tae’s back came up toward you, so you took it and gave it a light squeeze, as if all of this was the most normal thing in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only write fluff for Jimin. Not even sorry.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your "date" with J-Hope.  
> Apart from the last one, the "dates" were chosen randomly, so here's J-Hope!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 24**

            You ignored the other texts he had sent while you slept.  In fact, you simply selected them all and erased them without reading them.  The ones from Namjoon, however, you did read as you rolled over in bed the next morning.  You grimaced at the first one.

            “Hope you had fun with Jimin.”  What was the twinge you felt in your gut?  You loved and hated texting.  Words hold so much meaning, and they should never be said or taken lightly.  But without knowing the tone behind them…You almost gasped at the next text.  It was a picture of you at the broken piano at the amusement park, and you noted the sad look on your face.  You looked devastated.  And yet hopeful.  How did that happen?  Saving the picture to your phone, you sent Namjoon a quick text back.

            “Thanks for the pic.  Is this a subtle way of asking me to send you some?”   Without waiting for a reply, you attached a few you thought were the best of him and then leaned against the back of your bed.  As you started to mentally prep for the day going through your checklist: Exercise, shower, eat, get dressed, wait for a date—“date”—you looked again at the picture, and, not really thinking about it, sent it to Yoongi.

            “Saw this awesome (but sad) piano the other day with Namjoon.”  You typed and erased what to say next before settling on, “Thought you might like it.”  Only after sending it did you think about how early it was, so you sent a quick, “Also, sorry if I woke you up.”  And before you even got out of bed to brush your teeth, your phone buzzed.

            “I’m awake.”

            “ _Why??_   _Where are you_?”

            “ _Studio._ ”

            “Yoongi.”

            “Have fun with J-Hope today.”  You stopped in the middle of your floor seeing the name.  Another text came immediately.  “Ah, _I wasn’t supposed to say that.  Pretend to be surprised_?”

            “Of course.  _Sleep,_ ” you sent.

            “ _Are you telling me what to do?_ ”

            “ _Yes._ ”  You threw your phone on your bed so you could start your morning without any further distractions.

 

            You were secretly relieved Yoongi had let it slip you would be with J-Hope today.  If you were going to hang out with the literal sun, you would need to put on some protection first.  You had barely spoken twenty-four words to J-Hope in twenty-four days apart from when you were all filming together.  It wasn’t intentional; you always just seemed to be missing each other or, despite his exuberant personality, there was always someone else talking to you first.  As you got dressed in the most comfortable and colorful outfit you had, you wondered if subconsciously you had been avoiding him.  If you were honest, he intimidated you.  Of all the boys, you figured J-Hope was the exact opposite of you.  At the end of the day, he lived up to his name.  And you.  You might as well be Mrs. Puddleglum.  J-Hope deserved to be with someone much happier than you, you knew.  The thought made you pause as you laced up your shoes.

            “It’s just a ‘date,’” you said to yourself.  “No one’s going to ‘be with’ me.”  Unsure of what the plan was today, you tried to spend the rest of the morning and afternoon as productively as possible.  At around ten Namjoon responded to your texts from that morning.

            “Thanks!  I’ll post one today.”  And you kept Twitter open until you saw the picture of him on the whirl-and-hurl with his Kim Daily hashtag and a short caption: “The ground was dirty.”  Smiling, you tried to focus on work, ate lunch by yourself, and started to get really stir crazy by three in the afternoon.  Flopping face-first on your bed, you looked at how many replies, likes, and retweets Namjoon’s picture had gotten, and you felt pretty proud of yourself for taking such a good picture, even though you couldn’t see how anyone could take a bad picture of Namjoon.  You also absentmindedly looked at the messages you at sent to Yoongi early that morning—way too early.

            “Aish,” you said to yourself, realizing he may not have been flirting at all but may have really been upset with you telling him to go to sleep.  Stupid texting.  Groaning to yourself, you sent him an apology.

            “ _Sorry,_ don’t listen to me.  Stay up.  Never sleep again.”

            “But I’d die.” 

            “Aish,” you said to yourself, feeling like you were royally fucking this up.  “ _Don’t die,_ ” you sent back and then buried your face in your pillow.

            “ _Thanks for the picture.  The piano reminds me of something._ ”

            “ _What?_ ”

            “ _Tell you later._ Face-to-face,” Yoongi sent back, and you hated the way your heartbeat increased.

            “I’m bored.  Coming to the studio,” you sent to Mina, pretty sure you wouldn’t last two more minutes sitting around the dorm.

 

            “You’re just incapable of blending in, aren’t you?”  J-Hope was wearing at least three different patterns and probably six different colors, and you admired his ability to just be himself at all times with no reservations.  You couldn’t help but smile at him, and you were glad he smiled back.  You felt like your cheeks were for sure going to hurt by the end of this “date.”  Mina must’ve told J-Hope that you were coming, because by the time you arrived she, J-Hope, and the camera crew were in the lobby ready to go.  You had mumbled some greetings and apologies for making them wait before getting your mic on and starting the “date” with your comment about his clothes.

            “ _I have to be more flashy than the arcade lights,_ ” he said, waving a hand over his outfit.  Mina was translating from behind the camera for you, but you understood arcade.

            “Arcade?  Are we going to an arcade?” you said, unable to stop yourself from bouncing up and down.  Laughing and smiling at you, J-Hope nodded, and you clapped your hands.

            “ _Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,_ ” you said, getting faster and louder each time until J-Hope led you outside to the car.

 

            He had been joking in a way, but J-Hope’s outfit really did rival the arcade’s colors.  That was the first thing you noticed.  The second was that no one else was around, so they must have rented out the whole place.  You were a little surprised and touched.  On the one hand, it would be best to avoid being seen, and you could have all of the games to yourself; on the other hand, it just reminded you of how abnormal this experience was, because at no other time would you be going on a “date” with someone who could rent out an entire arcade.  The boys were spoiling you, and you felt a stab of guilt and annoyance.  You had to go back to your normal life in four weeks.  They could keep renting out arcades for whoever they wanted to impress.  Trying to push all of these thoughts away and just have a good time, you led J-Hope to a game, though you followed him more than you would have liked to the rest of the time as you really couldn’t read most of the games.  You noticed as you played that Mina didn’t often step in to translate; J-Hope really knew more English than you thought he did, and you found your admiration of the guy growing.  To both of your surprise you actually beat him in a dancing rhythm game, and you couldn’t help but explain as you both laughed.

            “DDR queen,” you said, pointing to yourself.  He had somehow never heard of the game, which you thought was a travesty, and you spent the next ten minutes showing him videos and sharing stories about your days on top.  You made him play a zombie shooting game that was in no way scary, but he kept screaming, which only made you laugh and look towards the camera and shrug.  After it felt like you had played every game, and J-Hope had tried at least twenty times to get you a stupid stuffed animal from a claw machine without any luck, and you had both failed miserably at shooting hoops, and he had beat you badly at air hockey because you kept laughing at his crazy faces, he asked if you were ready to go.

            “Depends,” you said, feeling like you needed to use your inhaler from laughing so much.  “ _Are we done_?”

            “ _Not even,_ ” he said.  “ _Are you hungry_?”

            “ _Always._ ”

            “ _Perfect, let’s go eat!_ ”  Even J-Hope’s idea of dinner shouldn’t have surprised you.  The two of you walked to the nearest convenience store and picked up a variety of snacks where you asked “ _What’s that?  Is it good?_ ” about everything you picked up.  Feeling satisfied with your selections, J-Hope paid for everything and carried the bag.  It was later than you realized as J-Hope led you through a park to a spot on top of a hill under some trees overlooking the city.  It was, honestly, the perfect spot, and you had no reservations about sitting on the ground to eat the collection of snacks.  J-Hope made sure you tried everything but didn’t pressure you to finish anything you didn’t like, and you made him laugh with your exaggerated faces that let him know what those items were. 

            “ _How did dancing with Jimin go_?”

            “Oh,” you said between bites.  “ _Well.  It was fun._ ”  

            “ _We made that choreography just a few days ago, so I wondered what it looks like with you._ ”

            “ _Wha—_ ” you said, suddenly laughing picturing J-Hope and Jimin doing the dance.  “I bet it looks better with the two of you.”  J-Hope laughed because you were, but he was serious about seeing you do the dance.  He could not, however, convince you to try it now.  So you talked about nothing important; favorite colors and your dogs and experiences as the youngest sibling.  It was when you brought up his sister that he rolled over on the ground so he could face you, his head resting on his hand, a proud smile on his face.

            “ _You really love her,_ huh?” you said.  He nodded.

            “ _She’s the best.  Very level-headed.  Calmer than me,_ ” and you laughed, imagining most people were calmer than J-Hope.  “ _Mature, but I still feel the need to take care of her even though she’s older.  I will provide for her until the right guy comes along._

            “This may be rude,” you said, and J-Hope perked up at the word, “but you seem unreal.”  He laughed long and hard at this, and you couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or just found the sentiment funny.

            “ _Why, why?_ ”

            “You’re literally so happy and positive.  I don’t get it.”  As if to prove your point, J-Hope laughed again.

            “ _You’re so like Yoongi,_ ” he said, and you started at the name but didn’t question it when he didn’t bother to explain.

            “I just mean we would never go together.  There’s no,” you hesitated, really not wanting to upset him, “there’s no balance.  You’re just always happy.  You should be with someone like you.”  J-Hope, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat, and rolled over until he was side by side you, his hand with fingers curled resting on your back.

            “ _But opposites attract,_ ” he said.  But you looked at him, and you frowned, because you could tell he didn’t mean it.  He had been real all day, just having a good time, but you could tell he didn’t want to be doing this.  You moved your head slightly away from him so you could look up at Mina, who was standing several feet away, her arms crossed.  Her stance changed when she saw you, and she even took a step toward you.

            “Can we turn off the cameras for a minute?”  Afraid he had done something wrong, J-Hope moved away from you and looked back at Mina and the staff.  When she told him what you had said, he nodded.

            “ _Yeah, yeah, turn them off._ ”  As he sat up, you did the same, and you sat cross-legged opposite each other.

            “Tell me honestly,” you said, noticing Mina standing closer to you now, “did you not want me here?”  J-Hope’s eyes widened, and he looked for a moment to Mina as she translated and then you.  “I don’t mean here today, I mean this summer.”

            “Of course!” he said enthusiastically, but you scrunched your face at him.

            “I’m not trying to call you a liar, but is that the truth?”  J-Hope picked at the grass and took a deep breath.

            “It’s not you,” he began.

            “Did you not want anyone here this summer?  Were you against this whole idea?”

            “Ah, not whole,” he started, but then faltered again, so you waited, unsure of what else to ask.  “ _I,_ ” he said, looking up at Mina again for help as he explained, “ _the company asked us if we want to start dating.  I said yes before I knew what their plan was.  So this, I mean, you’re great, I’m glad you’re here, but it’s not…_ ”

            “ _It’s not real,_ ” you finished for him, and he nodded.  “So, what’s your ideal girl?”

            “Ideal?  Ideal…”

            “Come on, I know it’s not me, so my feelings won’t get hurt,” you said, smiling at him.  He seemed to duck his head at this, but his confidence soon returned as he looked up into the sky to describe her.

            “Ah, well, _younger than me, positive, traditional, I’m actually pretty traditional._ ”

            “So what, no tattoos or scandalous history?”  J-Hope’s laugh seemed to answer for you.  “Korean?”  He hummed before answering,

            “ _Yes, I think so._ ”

            “You want someone you can protect, don’t you?” you said, and your voice was softer than you intended.  And J-Hope’s nod was softer than you expected.  His whole demeanor had changed when he had been describing this girl; he became bashful in a way and certainly looked much younger.  Something clicked during this whole conversation, and even though the cameras were off, you willed yourself to hold the question until later. 

            “ _Which is why it’s probably a bad idea.  I am too busy with work to give someone the attention she’d deserve._ ”

            “I think that’s dangerous to say.  You can always make up some excuse.  But if the right person comes along, you’ll make time for her.  And I’m sure she will.  Show up.  And make time for you, I mean,” you said, giving J-Hope a lame thumbs-up.

            “ _Can’t I call you noona now?_ ” he said, trying to lean forward to give you a hug, but you pushed his hands away playfully.

            “You’ve been calling me that!  Don’t think I haven’t heard you.”

            “ _Because you are my noona._ ”

            “So will you protect me even if, you know, we can’t—?” you stuttered, not sure of the protocol on this weird “date.”

            “ _I already am._ Of course,” J-Hope said seriously, and you believed him.  You remembered the night he had brought you home when you were drunk.  That was the only thing you knew about for sure, so you wondered if he had done anything else without you aware.  The sun had already gone down, and the camera crew was already back in the car, so J-Hope helped you up and walked you back to the car.  On the way back to the dorm you talked about more trivial things, your favorite vacations, where you’d like to go one day, how work was going, and when you pulled up to the dorms you thanked Mina and got out of the car.  You had only taken a few steps when you noticed J-Hope wasn’t behind you, and you looked back to see him with his hand on the open car door, but his entire body still in the car.  He was leaning forward slightly and talking to the person in the passenger seat.  Mina.  You didn’t even need to ask Mina now.  Everything made sense.  You turned away to head into the building, and soon you heard J-Hope’s quick footsteps behind you.  When he caught up to you, you couldn’t help but give him a dorky grin and raise your eyebrows a couple of times.

            “ _What_?” J-Hope said, noticing your smirk.

            “ _Nothing, dongsaeng._ ”

            “ _Hey!_ ” J-Hope said, but you were already running for the door.

 

            That night as you journaled and read and laid in bed getting ready to go to sleep, you went back over the letters you had written with Jimin the day before, wondering if you should deliver them now or hold onto them for later.  Or, forever, if your nerve gave out.  You re-read what you had written, too, trying to imagine when the boys would read them, trying to imagine if they ever got shown to ARMY.  Did they sound too mushy?  Too stiff?  What words had you written that could be taken the wrong way?  Sighing, you realized all of them could be taken out of context, because people will see and hear and believe what they want.  Looking at what you had written Tae, you realized you hadn’t practice English with him in several days and sent him a quick reminder text to practice lots.  You knew the boys were using the week to work on getting ready for their concert while still making time to hang out with you, but you found that you missed him. 

            “I’ll practice hard! _Fighting!_ ”  The purple heart emoji he attached made you smile, and you looked back at your letters.  The one you had written to Namjoon, you realized, sounded way too stiff, while the one you wrote to Jungkook sounded too flirty.  Groaning, you put those aside for later and looked at the one for Yoongi.  You had rambled too much, something about the piano and music and him, and you wondered what he had thought of the piano, so you decided to see if he was available to explain what he had meant earlier about it reminding him of something.

            “ _Hey, where are you?_ ” you texted.

            “ _Studio.  Why_?”

            “Are you always there?  _Can I come visit_?” you asked.

            “ _I come home sometimes.  But no, I’m not supposed to see you until the day of.”_

            “Uh, that’s a wedding thing.  I’ve seen everyone else this week.  I also saw you for like two seconds the other day??”

            “ _You saw nothing.  I need time to make myself look good_.”  You almost snorted when you translated Yoongi’s text.

            “Okay, your face better blow me away by…whenever I see you.”

            “Soon, soon.”  You found yourself staring like an idiot at your phone, trying to just read the words with a robot’s head in your voice so you couldn’t think they meant anything other than what they just literally meant, so you didn’t notice someone was standing at your door until he cleared his throat and knocked.

            “Ah, Jin, _hi,_ ” you said, looking up at him.

            “Would you like to go on a date tomorrow with me?”  He seemed to have practiced the phrase a lot, and his extraordinary amount of confidence in everything he did helped him get by without a hitch.

            “Oh,” you said, realizing he was being pretty formal about the whole thing.  “ _Yeah, I’d like that.  Thank you._ ”

            “Sorry we have work.  But, five, here,” he said, indicating all around him, “we can cook and maybe go out after?”

            “Sounds perfect,” you said, smiling, because it really did sound like a good way to relax and just have time to talk.

            “Okay,” Jin said, giving you a thumbs-up.  “See you then.  Good night.”  When his back had disappeared down the hallway, you picked up the letter you had written to him.  It was full of too many questions, so you knew you would have to rewrite it or wait until after tomorrow to see if the questions still stood. 

            “Maybe,” you said to yourself, “I’ll just wait until the end of the week to give them these.”  Deciding that was a good idea, you looked back at the one you had written for J-Hope and decided to add a few more sentences after today’s “date.”

J-Hope,

            I’ve said it before, but you really inspire me.  I can’t believe someone re-named himself and worked hard to always live up to that name.  Your positivity and patience with others amazes me.  I don’t think I could ever be anything like you, even though I would love to be.  I hope one day I can give a little back to you what you have given so much of to me.

                                                                                                            —B

P.S. Thank you for protecting and taking care of me.  I always wanted a little brother, so hopefully I make a good older sister.  Maybe you can get Mina to help translate this for you?

            You smirked again.  One time in college you had told your friend you were going to go to the movie store and pick out a movie when you were really taking her to the house of the guy you knew she liked.  You knew he liked her, too, so even though your friend figured out what was going on before you arrived and pleaded with you to take her home, you made her get out of the car and “Do the adult thing, just tell him you like him.”  Oh, how she had glared and cussed at you, but she went to knock on his door, anyway, and you sat and waited in your car before you got a text from her telling you she’d get a ride home.  You left with the biggest grin on your face, patting yourself on your back, and then three years later you were at their wedding telling that story.  You had played match maker before.  Mina and J-Hope would be together before the summer was over, you would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, Mina and J-Hope's ship name is MiHope. Don't fight me on this.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your "date" with Jin.  
> Apart from the last one, the "dates" were chosen randomly, so here's Jin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 25**

            You may be an introvert, and you had social anxiety and you sometimes were really awkward around people, especially those you weren’t comfortable with, but you weren’t socially inept.  You could speak well in front of people, had won speech competitions, could hold your own in conversations, and loved meeting new people, so writing out questions before a date—or a “date”—was something you never thought you would do.  But there you were the next morning, eating breakfast at the island, writing down things to talk to Jin about and muttering to yourself about how stupid all of this was.  You thought all of the boys were already at work, so you were surprised when Namjoon came around the hallway, looking a little frazzled.  You jumped when you heard his footsteps on the kitchen floor.

            “Ya!  I thought you were all gone,” you said, steadying your breath.  He chuckled at you and hurried to put on the coffee.

            “Sorry,” he said, yawning, “I’ve got a phone interview with an American station this morning, so on a little bit of a different schedule.  What are you working on?”  You immediately shielded your papers with your hands.

            “Nothing.”

            “Okay,” he said, pouring his coffee, but there was something about the way he said it that made you feel really guilty, so you sighed and plopped your head in your hand, watching him rummage through the fridge.

            “Okay, so I’m hanging out with Jin today.”  Namjoon hummed.  “And I just…Does he hate me?”

            “Why would you ask that?” Namjoon said, looking undeterred.  You sighed again, feeling silly.

            “He keeps looking at me,” you said.  Namjoon turned around and looked at you, too, before saying in a too-serious voice,

            “Why wouldn’t he look at you?”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, flustered, “I mean, the way he looks at me.  Like,” you glared at Namjoon, trying to emulate the looks Jin had been given you lately.  The corner of Namjoon’s lip moved, but he turned back around to finish making himself breakfast.

            “You’ll have to talk to him about that,” he finally said, turning around to sit at the island with you.

            “Oh, that again,” you said, sticking your lip out, but when he didn’t smile at you, you added, “you’re a really great leader, you know?  And clearly a wonderful friend.  How did you get so wise and mature?”  A fleeting smile crossed his face at that, but he shrugged.

            “Years of being foolish and childish, I guess.  So, what are those?” he asked, pointing to your papers.

            “Aish, it’s so stupid.  They’re just questions to ask, things I want to know about him or talk to him about.”

            “Did you make those for our date?”  Namjoon said, his eyebrows raising.

            “ _No,_ ” you said simply, and Namjoon hummed again.  You sat there quietly jotting more things down while Namjoon ate.  When he was done, he washed up and went back to his room.  You were still sitting there when he came back a few minutes later, a seriously concentrated look on your face.

            “Good luck,” Namjoon said, his hand on the doorknob.       

            “Mm, _thanks,_ ” you said, not looking up.

            “Just, whatever you do, don’t ask him about his llama dream.  Bye!”

            “Wait, what?” you said, looking up, but Namjoon was already gone.  You hurried to write down “llama dream?” on your paper and spent the rest of the day trying to get some work done while worrying about how Jin would look at you later.

 

            You found that the more uncomfortable you felt in a situation, the more comfortable of clothes you wanted to be in, so you stood and paced in the living room, trying to occupy yourself on your phone in your favorite black pants and a loose blue shirt that had tiny embroidered flowers sticking out of the pocket on the left side of your chest.  You had a pair of Puma shoes on, which you found odd if you were really staying in, but you figured you would wait to see what Jin did before kicking yours off.  But when the door finally opened and you turned to it, it was only Mina and the camera crew.

            “ _Hello,_ ” you said, bowing to them all.

            “Hi,” Mina said, smiling at you.  “You look nice.”

            “Thanks, you too,” you said, because it was the polite thing to say, but also because she did look nice.  She always looked nice.

            “Hair, makeup, mic,” she said, holding one out to you.  Almost a pro at putting your mic on by this point, you worked on attaching it while following her down to your room.  When you got to your door, she looked around and then held up a finger before disappearing into Tae and Yoongi’s room.  When she came back, she was holding a small stool which she put in front of your bathroom mirror and patted for you to sit on.  “Tae,” she said, and you nodded in understanding, smiling at the image of Tae sitting on the stool in front of his mirror doing his own makeup.  “Okay, so,” Mina explained as she worked on your hair, “Jin will be here in about thirty minutes.  But he’s requested that I and the crew not be here.”

            “What?” you said, trying to turn your head, but Mina put her hands on your temples and kept you looking straight into the mirror.  “Why?”  You saw her bite her lip, and you knew she knew but was debating whether to tell you or not.

            “Has…Have I been helpful this week?”

            “What?  Of course,” you said, trying not to frown at her question as she swept makeup over your face.  “Why do you ask?”

            “I know this is all odd, especially for you,” she said, but then started and tried again.  “It would be odd for anyone.  I’m honestly impressed with how you’ve been handling it.  And,” she said slowly, softly, “I know you wish you didn’t need me at all.”  You opened your mouth to contradict her, but she continued.  “A translator.  You’re picking Korean up quicker than you think.  And the boys are really making progress in their English.  But I know having staff follow you around is uncomfortable, and Jin knows it, too, so he requested that it just be the two of you today.”

            “Oh,” you said, honestly surprised at his considerateness.  You sat thinking while Mina finished fixing your makeup.  “But…”  Mina smile, anticipating your question.

            “Jin has been working really hard this week on his English.  You’ll be fine.”

            “Oh,” you said lamely, really not sure what to think.  For some reason, while this information should have made you more at ease because you really would prefer just being with Jin without a camera crew around, a part of you just felt more nervous.  It felt like whenever someone said, “We need to talk,” and even if you knew you had done nothing wrong, your brain would go through everything you had ever said since you had learned to talk to try to figure out what this person wanted to talk about.  You took a deep breath.  Just believe Jin, you told yourself, and trust that he wanted you to be comfortable, so be comfortable.  Easier said than done.

            “Okay,” you told Mina as she finished doing your makeup.  “Hey, Mina, what’s your favorite thing about J-Hope?” you tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible.

            “J-Hope?” she said, and you tried to watch her closely, but she was shooing you off the stool and leaving your room, so you couldn’t really see her face.  “I guess his attitude,” she said, shrugging.  There was something so distant about the way she answered.  Something off.  Groaning, you followed her into Tae and Yoongi’s room but stopped at the door, realizing you really weren’t supposed to be in there.

            “Do you,” you said, watching her come back out of their bathroom, “ever get to hang out with him?”

            “I see him basically every day,” she said, her face still way too serious.

            “You know what I mean,” you said, trying to cox her into telling you something, smiling or something, but she wasn’t budging.

            “No, why would I do that?”  You let out a sigh, making a face at the ground.  Maybe you had completely read the other day wrong.  You so rarely misread people, but you weren’t going to put it past yourself.  No need to make a bigger fool of yourself by pushing it right now.

            “Ah, _never mind, never mind,_ ” you said, waving away the conversation with your hand and walking back to the kitchen.  The camera had already been set up, so the crew was already gone.

            “Need anything else?” Mina was saying, but you shook your head, so she closed the dorm door behind her.  Knowing you were being watched, you sat on a stool at the island and occasionally made faces at the camera while you waited.  It quickly got awkward, though, so you gave a wave and said,

            “Hi mom,” wondering how much longer you would have to wait.  Thankfully—before you started dancing in nervousness or talking to yourself on camera—the door started to open, and you stood up, unsure of why you were so nervous.

            “ _Hello, hello, honey, I’m home_!” you heard Jin sing-song as he came in, his hands full of bags.

            “Oh, geez, let me help,” you said, rushing to take some of the bags from him and place on the island.

            “ _Thank you, thank you,_ ” Jin said as he sat his down, too.  “Hi,” he said next, standing in front of you.  How had you forgotten how tall he was?

            “ _Hi, how are you_?”

            “ _Good, good, hungry,_ you?” Jin said, already taking stuff out of the bags.  You started to help him, separating what looked like vegetables from meats and other items.

            “ _Yes, always.  What are we cooking_?”

            “Food,” he said seriously, holding up a package of meat.

            “Oh, _good,_ that’s what I tend to eat,” you said back without missing a beat.  So cook food is what the two of you started doing.  Having been in the dorm for over three weeks and usually ending up cooking and eating on your own, you knew your way around the kitchen well now and quickly got out anything Jin requested or needed.  As you chopped the onions, cutting them to avoid having your eyes cry, you noticed him watching over your shoulder, so you hovered the knife in the air and turned to look at him.

            “ _Is this okay_?”

            “Oh, yes, yes, you’re good.  _Where did you learn to cook_?”

            “Oh,” you said, relieved you weren’t doing something wrong and going back to chopping the onions.  “I cooked for my family a lot.  And living alone I have to cook or I don’t eat.  I also went to culinary school for a year.”

            “Culinary school?”

            “Yeah, to be a chef.”

            “ _Really?_ ” Jin said, pausing in stirring his pan to give you an impressed look.

            “ _Yes,_ it was my dream, _my dream,_ for awhile.”

            “ _Why did you stop_?”

            “Ah, it was too stressful.  _I love cooking,_ but at my pace.  _Not fast,_ ” you said, pretending to chop the onions extremely fast.  Jin laughed at your actions and nodded in understanding.  The rest of cooking went smoothly and fairy quietly, as quiet as Jin could be while cooking in front of a camera—he kept tasting things and smacking his lips or saying “Yaa” in an obnoxious voice, but you smiled every time—and soon everything was prepared and put on the island.  As you were used to at meals, Jin made sure to serve you a plate first and waited while you closed your eyes and pressed your hands together, saying a quick prayer, and then took your first bite before he started eating, too.

            “Oh,” he said after his first bite, “this is from Jimin,” he said, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket to hand to you.  _Cook me something good_? It said, and you smiled and immediately took out another plate to place some food on to put aside.

            “ _What are you doing_?” Jin said, his voice a little whiney or annoyed.

            “ _Jimin wants some food._ ”      

            “ _But we made this for us,_ ” Jin said, his voice clearly whiney and annoyed.

            “There’s plenty.  We made enough to feed a small army,” you said, and then turned to the camera to smile at your coincidental but accidental word choice.  You smiled reassuringly at Jin, and he thankfully gave you a smile even if it was wary.  You started to think of all the questions you had written down earlier, wondering how to start a conversation, but he beat you to it.

            “So, why are you called B?”

            “Oh,” you said, happy to explain.  You had put it on your application, but none of the boys had bothered to ask.  “In school there were three Y/N’s in my class.”

            “ _Three Y/N’s_?”

            “ _Yeah, all the same._ Well, two of us spelled it differently.  So we were Y/N A and Y/N B.  A doesn’t really make a great name, but B sounds like a name, so instead of saying Y/N B people just started to call me B.  I don’t usually introduce myself that way, so it’s just a nickname now.”

            “Ah,” Jin said, and apparently he was going to be the one asking questions tonight, because after you took another bite he continued, “how have dates been?”  You made sure to smile for the camera, but you felt uncomfortable because Jin’s face was tense and because it didn’t come across as a casual question. You couldn’t shake the look he had given you two days ago or last week.  You had been trying to ignore them, because they weren’t really your business, and which boy you were talking to wasn’t really his business, but you almost laughed at yourself because that was the absurdity of the whole situation: you were his business, you were there for him and he could look at you however he wanted, it was his house.  But you still would like to know why he had been looking at you as if you were the worst person he’s ever met while the next day he’s smiling at you and helping you through your migraine and comforting you in the middle of the night.  Realizing you were thinking way too long because you thought no matter what you said it would be wrong, you took a deep breath and said,

            “ _Good.  Why do you ask?_ Didn’t Namjoon or Jimin tell you?”  Jin licked his lips once and stared at you over his food.

            “No, no, they told me nothing,” he said.  The two no’s gave him away, and you smiled, but it died quickly as you wondered what the boys had told each other.

            “Okay,” you said shortly, and you knew he knew you knew, because the air got very still as the two of you ate in silence for a few minutes.  But your curiosity and the awkward silence got the better of you, and you suddenly burst out,  “ _Really_?  Namjoon didn’t say anything?”  Jin’s smile looked like he had just won some competition you didn’t know you were a part of, and you regretted asking.

            “ _Why do you ask_?”

            “Just trying to make conversation,” you muttered, finishing your last bite and putting your chopsticks down with a clatter. 

            “ _Of course Namjoon said something.  We are roommates.  We tend to talk a lot._ ”

            “Uh huh,” you said, not wanting to push your luck with how much he would share. Which was apparently nothing, because he said nothing else.  Snapping your fingers to try to break through whatever was in the air, you stood up and took your plates to the sink.  After you placed them down, you turned around to grab more dishes off of the island, but Jin grabbed your wrist, causing you to stop and look at him.  His eyes dark eyes seemed to want to swallow you whole, and you found yourself swallowing.

            “ _Did you have fun with Namjoon_?” he said.

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said, though it came out softer than you wanted it to, distracted by the pressure on your wrist and his eyes.  “ _Did he_?”

            “ _Couldn’t you tell?_ ” the look on Jin’s face was starting to make you queasy, and you pulled your hand away.

            “ _No,_ ” you said, your voice louder than you expected, “you’re all so good at acting, I don’t know what’s real with any of you.  Everything could be for the camera for all I know,” you said, waving your hand at the accursed item in the corner staring you down.  Jin didn’t even turn around to look at it, but he did reach for your wrist again.  You stepped away from him, and his face softened.

            “ _I’m not…We’re more real than you think,_ ” Jin finally said.  You didn’t quite understand, and you were too frustrated to care, so you just turned to the sink to wash the dishes. 

            [If you had turned around, you would have Jin rubbing his eyes and then his forehead and then his hands as he watched the back of your head, wanting to wash away everything he had said in the last two minutes.]

The clatter of the dishes was the only noise for a few moments until you heard Jin stand up.  He appeared at your side and pushed you slightly with his shoulder.  “Let me,” he said, his voice the softest it had been all night.  Glad to hand over the responsibility and get away from him, you handed him the rag and went to sit back on your stool trying to calm your breath.  You hated that you couldn’t just say what you wanted.  And you hated that Jin wasn’t, either, and you realized right then and there that you and Jin were clearly both stubborn.  You had to do something before the whole night became a nightmare and showed either of you in a bad light.

            “ _What are we doing next_?” you finally said, and Jin turned around, drying his hands on a towel to give you a smile.

            “Karaoke,” he said.

            “Oh, god, _no_ ,” you groaned.

            “ _I heard you’ve never been_?”

            “Sure,” you said, wondering where he had heard that, “it’s not very popular in America.”

            “ _Awesome,_ ” Jin said, clapping his hands and going to turn the camera off.  “ _I hope you don’t mind some of my friends coming._ ”

            “ _Friends_?”  Jin nodded for an answer, and if this was a real date you would be annoyed, because while you weren’t opposed to group dates, you would like to know before you’re going on one.  Plus, was Jin forgetting the small issue of not knowing Korean?  You thought of all the reasons people took their girlfriends with them to hang out with friends: A. To make the girl annoyed or jealous, which is petty. B. To introduce the girl to his friends so they can judge her. C. Because he doesn’t want to leave her out, but he really wants to hang out with friends.  D. To test how the girl will react.  Well, shit, you thought, Jin could have any of those reasons.  None of them were good reasons that made you feel comfortable with the situation, but it was Jin’s decision, so you went to grab your white bomber jacket before you headed out.

 

            Jin’s friends—well, that and alcohol—seemed to bring out the best in Jin.  He laughed loudly, that laugh that pierced to your core and you couldn’t help but smile at, and slapped their arms or necks repetitively in pure adoration.  Your friend had once told you that she knows she really loves someone when she just wants to punch them in the face.  The sentiment had never made sense to you until you saw Jin with his friends, and while you were still uncomfortable the majority of the night, you were glad to see this carefree side of him.  The one thing that did make the night great—besides alcohol—was Jin friend’s Chin-mae who had gone to the states for college as an engineer and was fluent in English.  As there was no way you were going to sing any songs—you barely knew any BTS songs fully in Korean—you sat in the corner, enjoying the antics of the boys and laughing at their expressions while simultaneously feeling lonely.  You were annoyed with yourself at the feeling, but it was similar to ones you had whenever you went to a party, and you couldn’t help thinking of that quote from _The Great Gatsby_ : “I like large parties.  They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.”  Jin did look over at you occasionally, but you didn’t want to get in the way of him having fun, so you tried to keep yourself occupied and tried to look like you were having a good time. 

[If you could have seen him clearly, you would have seen a look of concern in his eyes mixed with pure hesitation and doubt.]

But you weren’t tipsy enough to not realize how much you lit up when Chin-mae came to sit by you with a huff.

            “They’re exhausting,” he said, taking another drink.

            “How often do you get to see them?”

            “Oh, never, this one,” he said, pointing at Jin who was almost a foot taller than his two other friends who were singing with him, “is too busy.  Sometimes lunch or a drink.  I guess we have you to thank,” he said, clinking his glass against yours.

            “Glad I could help,” you said, and part of you really was glad to hear you were helping in some way.  “Wait, what did he tell you guys about me?” you said, not remembering what had happened an hour ago—introductions, this is my friend B, she’s from America, right, she doesn’t speak a lot of Korean, be nice (was that to you or his friends?), but there seemed to be a big piece of information missing.

            “You’re from America, and your name is B.  And past that we shouldn’t ask,” he said, winking at you.

            “Oh, god, I promise I’m not a hooker.  A prostitute,” you said, your eyes wide, and Chin-mae laughed, so you did, too.

            [And the room was dark, and you weren’t looking at Jin, and the music was too loud to overhear your conversation, but he turned in the middle of a note at the sound of your laugh, and his eyes narrowed when he saw you with his friend.]

            “No, no,” Chin-mae said, still laughing, “you work for BigHit, we know that much.  But we know Jin has to keep a lot private.”

            “Isn’t that hard?” you said, sipping on your drink.

            “What do you mean?”

            “How do you get to know him if he can’t tell you things?  Do you feel close to him despite all of this?  How do you be friends with someone so famous and gorgeous?” you said, pointing at Jin.  Chin-mae laughed again.

            [And Jin saw you pointing at him, and he licked his lips and tried to concentrate on the song.]

            “We just know we’ll be there for each other when we can be.”

            “Ah,” you said.  “I’m afraid I can’t be Jin’s friend.”  It came out more serious than intended, and Chin-mae turned toward you, his shoulder brushing yours.

            “Why do you say that?”

            “I mean, he’s great.  He’s a great guy.  He’s talented and gorgeous, as I already mentioned, but I don’t think he’ll ever tell me what he means.  He…” you paused, realizing Chin-mae was probably going to tell Jin everything you were saying, and you didn’t want that, you didn’t want to stoop so low, you didn’t want to not communicate just because you were frustrated.

            “He’s very guarded,” Chin-mae said for you.  “So, yeah, he doesn’t open up easily.”

            “Ah,” you said, taking another drink to cover your face.  But when you put it down, you looked at Jin, and he glanced at you for a moment, and the two of you didn’t look away from each other.  Instead, you smiled at him, and he smiled back.

            “But, yeah, he is a great guy,” Chin-mae said before he went back to sing with his friend.  Another hour passed pretty much the same, except you kept drinking and probably shouldn’t have, but while you were entertained watching the boys jumping around, you were also kind of bored.  And the second you sighed, you didn’t even really mean to, it just slipped out because you were getting tipsy and therefore happy, it was like Jin somehow heard you, because he passed off his mic—or dropped it—and came to sit beside you.

            “Hey,” he said, a grin on his face, “ _you ready to go home_?”  When you nodded, he hopped back up and gave his friends a bunch of hugs, and you let Chin-mae envelope you in one, too, before Jin was leading you back outside.  Even though it was dark outside, the lights in the karaoke room had given you a bit of a headache, so you found yourself stumbling more than you intended.

            “I’m not drunk,” you told Jin, and he laughed but held your hand tight, causing you to walk closer to him.  “Hey, hey, Jin, tell me about your llama dream?”  Jin was looking straight ahead when you asked him this, and his face became so serious you were afraid you might burst from trying not to laugh at him, and then he swept his hand over his eyes and looked at you with the reddest cheeks, red from alcohol and embarrassment, you had ever seen.

            “ _I’m going to kill Namjoon,_ ” he said, and you tugged on his sleeve with your free hand.

            “ _No, no, tell me, please,_ ” you whined, your words elongated and slurred.

            “ _No, ya, no,_ ” Jin said, and even though you stuck out your lip and pleaded with him, he wouldn’t tell you.

            “Jin,” you said, after a few moments of walking in silence, and you stood on your tiptoes to whisper up at him, “was it a sex dream?”

            “ _YA!_ ” Jin yelled, tugging you around the corner, and if he wasn’t holding onto your hand so tightly you might have flown off in another direction.  You couldn’t help but laugh now, and you poked his arm.

            “Okay, okay, it’s our secret.”

            “ _Aish,_ ” you heard him hiss, and, as typical when you had too to drink, you went from being silly to serious way too quickly.

 “Jin,” you said, looking up at him, “do you not want me here?”

            “ _What?_ ” he said, elongating the word.  “ _Why would you say that_?”

            “Ya,” You said, shoving him with your shoulder, which really did nothing, only make him hold your hand harder, “do you want me here?”

            “ _Of course!  I had fun!_ ”

            “Jin,” you said, stopping in your tracks.  He wasn’t about to have any of that, though, and he dragged you along after him.  You tried to keep your face down as some people passed you, and you hoped no one was doing any double takes to see whose hand you were holding.

            “You’re danger,” Jin said after you rounded a corner.

            “ _What?_ Danger?  Dangerous?”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” he said, and his steps slowed down to match yours.  Your brain was hurting.

            “ _Why_?” you whined.

            “ _Someone’s bound to like you.  Fall in love with you,_ ” he said.  Perhaps you heard him wrong.  Or misunderstood.  But no, you knew those words.

            “ _No,_ ” you said, finding yourself staring across the street, trying to read the signs of shops, but you were walking by too quickly.

            “ _Yes, and then someone will get hurt._ ”

            “ _Hurt_?” you repeated, even though you knew the word.

            “ _You, or the boys.  I’m the eldest.  It’s my job to protect them._ ”

            “Oh, Jin,” you said, stopping again, and this time he stopped with you.  And he just looked down at you, and you didn’t know what to say because you knew he was right.  You knew someone was going to get hurt, you just always assumed it would be you.  You would be the one to leave in five weeks, never to see them again.  You were the one who was getting to know them and getting used to seeing them every day, and soon you would go back to your normal life.  And if you got lonely or sad or anxious at night, you would once again have to sit by yourself on your bed like you always did.  And if you wanted to laugh or find something to be hopeful in, you would have to search the internet or watch something funny to cheer you up.  And all you could manage now, instead of telling Jin he was right and telling him how worried you were and telling him how you would never want to hurt any of the boys, all you could manage was to say his name again before pressing yourself into his chest.

            “Oh Y/N,” Jin said softly, copying you, and he wrapped his arms around you until his fingers were linked on your back, and you felt his chin resting on your head.

            [And his eyes closed as he rested his head, and he took several deep breaths.  And he wanted to rub his fingers over your back, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.  And he wanted to let you go, but he didn’t want to hurt you.]

            “Jin?” you said after a minute, your eyes opening even though you wanted to just go to sleep right there.  When he hummed in response, you said, “Who will protect you?”

            “Oh, Y/N,” Jin said, and he pushed you gently off of him and held you by your shoulders, giving you a playful smile, “ _no one can hurt me.  I mean, look at me._ ”

            “ _Ya, okay, sure, whatever,_ ” you said, pushing him a little harder than you intended into the wall behind him.  “Shit, sorry.”  But Jin only laughed at you and took your hand again to walk you home.  And as you got into the elevator he wrapped you up in a back hug and reached around you to press the buttons and he put his head on your shoulder, and you knew if you were sober it might freak you out, someone being so close to you, and you knew if you thought there was any chance Jin liked you, you would have pushed him away, but you didn’t want to hurt him, so you endured his pointed chin on your shoulder and let him hug you, even if your arms did hang loose by your side.

            “Y/N,” Jin said as the elevator went up, “I’m sorry.  _Earlier I.  Namjoon told me…_ ”

            “It’s okay,” you said, squeezing one of his hands, “I’ll ask him.”

            “Ya, but I…”

            “Jin,” you said, trying to step out of the elevator with a giant koala stuck on your back, “Namjoon can tell me later.”

            “ _I’m not an ass, I promise._ ”  You laughed at Jin’s whine on the back of your neck.

            “Okay, okay, _I believe you,_ ” you said, struggling to type in the dorm code while Jin’s arms were trying to swat your hands.  “ _Stop,_ ” you mumbled, even though you found it enduring in an odd way.

            “ _I don’t want to hurt you,_ ” Jin said, his voice barely audible.

            “Then don’t,” you said, prying his arms off of you so you could enter the dorm.  You waited until he followed you in before closing the door behind you.  “Don’t be rude to me,” you explained as you poured you both some water.  “Don’t glare at me,” you said, demonstrating with your eyes.  “Don’t lie to me.”  Jin nodded after everything you said, and you couldn’t help stepping closer to where he was sitting on one of the kitchen stools.  “ _Don’t hurt me,_ ” you said, brushing his hair out of his forehead.

            “ _I won’t hurt you,_ ” he said back, and you felt his hands resting on your hips, and he said it again, “ _I won’t hurt you,_ ” and you looked deeply into his eyes, and you believed him.  While you knew he was promising the impossible, you couldn’t help but believe him.  Because yeah, he is a great guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAIT WHAT DID JIN JUST SAY?!  
> Also, hmm, wonder who's next?
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your "date" with Tae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 26**

           “ _I won’t hurt you._ ”  Plenty of people had told you that before.  Even if they hadn’t said it with words, people meant it when they asked how you were, when they supported you in your decisions, when they gave you a comforting hug.  It was the promise that all friends made to each other, that people dating made, that spouses made.  But, like all promises, it was easily broken.  And this morning you were replaying every time anyone had ever hurt you after they had promised not to.  Of course it wasn’t rational.  Of course it did you no good.  Of course just because someone had treated you poorly before didn’t mean someone else would.  It was illogical.  It was irrational.  It was irritating you.  You could fixate on being lied to about the cameras.  Or you could move on.  You decided on the latter, but your body wasn’t keeping up with your brain today, and you almost literally rolled out of bed to get ready for the day.

           The week of “dates” was almost over, which meant you were running out of boys for options.  There was no way to prepare without knowing who it would be as the two that were left were almost polar opposites.  You imagined a “date” with Tae would be fully energy while Yoongi would probably be really chill and—

           “No, no,” you told yourself, “it’s just another day.”  So you would treat it as such until it wasn’t.

           Exercise, shower, text your mom you awful child she misses you, do some work, your Korean is still awful so be a good teacher by being a good student, read a book, educate your brain, edit some photos so you can post them when you get home, do some writing, look at all this time you have, listen to some music to motivate you, try not to get on Twitter to check out how many likes Namjoon’s picture had now, and definitely don’t text Tae or Yoongi or anyone, just don’t bother anyone and keep to yourself and everything was going to be fine, this was just another day just another normal day.

           You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes, shutting your computer.  Rolling your head around once and then twice, you stretched your shoulders and stood up to stretch your back and legs.  Unsure of how long you had been sitting at your desk, you were at least sure it was too long, and you went in search of some food.  You hoped that whoever you were hanging out with today wasn’t planning on dinner, because it was almost five and you weren’t going to wait any longer.  After you ate and cleaned—literally the entire kitchen because you really didn’t know who did that around here, and you might as well, and oh, look, a broom, you should sweep, and there’s always a bathroom to clean—you were starting to get a little worried because it was almost seven, and even though you felt like it was going to annoy someone if you asked, because you didn’t want them to think you assumed they had forgotten, you decided to text Mina.

           “Good evening,” you sent, and instantly cringed.  Why were you being so formal?  “Am I supposed to be somewhere at some time?”  Of course you are, what a dumb question, everyone is always somewhere at all times.  You rolled your eyes at yourself and went to your closet to pick something to wear.

           “Could you be at the studio by 8?”

           “Sure, I’ll walk over.”

           “Wait, I’ll send Jisung.  It might rain.”

           “Okay, thanks,” you said, and almost asked her who you would be with and what you would be doing, but you figured if you needed to know, you would be told, so you picked out a pair of light jeans and a plain black shirt to put your new Gucci rain jacket over.

           “This damn thing better be functional,” you muttered, because hell, its flower pattern was cute, but you weren’t about getting wet while walking around or going in and out of places.

 

           When you hopped into the car with Jisung, the dark clouds were mixing with the already sunless sky, and you couldn’t help but stifle a yawn.  Early morning dates—“dates”—should be a thing.

           “Hey, Jason,” you said, smiling at Jisung.  “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”  As usual, he nodded to everything you were saying.  “ _How are you_?”

           “ _Good,_ ” he said, smiling without looking at you.

           “So, _question,_ ” you said, sticking your hands in your raincoat’s pockets.  “ _you know Mina_?”  Jisung smiled at the question and slowly said,

           “ _Yes,_ ” as if he knew you were going to ask something else.

           “ _Right.  Are you close?  Is she your friend_?”

           “ _Yes,_ ” slowly again.

           “ _Is she dating anyone_?”

           “ _No,_ ” not said slowly, but short and sweet.

           “Ah,” you said, leaning back in your chair.  “Okay.”  Jisung looked over at you once before concentrating on driving, his eyes squinting at you in curiosity, but you were watching the rain fall.

 

           By the time you arrive at the studio is was ten past eight and the roads, the buildings, the sky, everything was wet.  Including you.  You tried to shake off a bit in the lobby before you saw Mina coming to meet you.

           “Oh dear,” she said, looking at you and Jisung—who managed to look like a sad, old, wet, loyal basset hound standing behind you—“it’s really coming down.”  You nodded in reply and peeled off your jacket, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air made you shiver.

           “Can you do anything with this?” you said, pointing to your hair, and Mina nodded.  Always confident.  Always hopeful.  You pressed your lips together, maybe from the cold, or from the thought that you had again.

           “Where are the boys?” you asked as she walked you to the makeup room.

           “Still practicing,” she said, and she sounded tired.  You realized she had probably been there all day, too.

           “Should I…I mean, do we need to reschedule?”

           “No, no,” Mina said, quickly making light work of your hair and face—how she managed to make you decent you would never understand.  “They’ll be done soon.”

           But “soon” turned into another hour, and while Jisung was keeping you company in the lobby, Mina kept going from the room the boys were in and back to you, giving you a thumbs-up or an update on the time.  If it was a real date, you would be annoyed, because your time was precious, and you may not be famous, but you deserved respect and the courtesy of not making you wait around forever.  But your schedule was currently pretty flexible, and this wasn’t a real date.

           “Jisung,” you said lightly after Mina had left you a third time, “do you think… _did Mina eat dinner_?”  Jisung hummed to himself before answering, his eyes watching down the corridor for Mina.

           “ _No,_ _I doubt it,_ ” he said.

           “Okay, _let’s go,_ ” you said, standing up and putting your still slightly wet rain jacket back on.  You sent Mina a quick text saying you would be right back, and you were relieved she didn’t run down the hall telling you to stop or something.  Jisung followed as you half jogged down the street, trying to stay under as much cover as possible, to a nearby take-away restaurant you had gotten food at before.  Quickly ordering three meals, you rocked back and forth on your feet while waiting and tried not to laugh at how pitiful Jisung looked as he attempted to ruffle his hair back to being dry.

           “Okay, okay, _now we run_ ,” you told Jisung as you stood at the restaurant’s door, bags in hand, before flinging it open and running down the sidewalk, an almost insane cackle leaving your mouth.  You were still laughing and struggling to breathe by the time you got back to the studio, the sliding doors not opening fast enough as you pranced in place under them, cursing at them for being slow.  Your laugh filled the whole lobby, and as Jisung came crashing in behind you, almost slipping on the wet tile, Mina and Tae and a small camera crew turned around to look at you.

           “Tae!” you said, flashing him a smile.

           [And shit.  You looked so beautiful.  Soaking wet.  With such a goofy grin on your face.]

           “Y/N!” he said, but he made it sound like he hadn’t seen you in years and you were friends reuniting after a terrible war where neither of you thought the other had survived.

           “Tae!” you said, flinging your arms wide, being careful not to spill anything in the bag.

           “Y/N!” he said again, flinging his arms wide and crouching down a little.

           “Okay, it’s weird now,” you laughed, walking up to him and Mina.  “Mina, where’s J-Hope?”

           “Uh,” she stuttered, and Tae looked between the two of you.

           “Here,” you said, sticking the bag in her hands, “this is for you.  And J-Hope.”

           “But,” Mina said again, looking oh, so confused, and oh, so guilty.  And oh, you realized that Tae was there, and that Mina was always so professional, and you needed to do something to distract them,

           “Tae!  _What are we doing_?  Wait, he is my ‘date,’ right?” you said, always putting the word in quotation marks with your fingers.

           “Uh, yes,” Mina said, regaining her composure. 

           “ _Great!  What are we doing_?”  You turned to Tae, and you noticed behind his smile how tired he looked.  The last time you had checked the clock it was almost ten.  And his sigh was so tiny, but you were standing too close to miss it.

           “ _Well, I was going to take you to this art museum.  But they told me we couldn’t because it would be too crowded.  So I asked them if we could ask the museum to get in after hours, so they said they would check._ ”  The boy was rambling, and you just watched him as you heard Mina translating for you.  “ _Then they told me we could go at eight, so I said that was perfect.  But then seven came along and we weren’t nearly done with practice.  And I knew we were going to be awhile, so I asked Mina to see if the place could stay open a little longer, and I don’t think they were too happy about it, but I think they are for another,_ ” Tae stopped and looked at his phone, “ _thirty minutes._   _And I’m really sorry we took so long.  I should’ve just texted you and let you know what was happening.  I mean, you were probably waiting all day for me.  I’m really sorry, Y/N,_ ” he said, but as he took a breath you took the opportunity to jump in.

           “Cancel it.”

           “ _What?_ ”

           “Cancel it,” you said, waiting for Mina to explain.  “The art museum.”

           “ _Yeah, but…_ ”  Tae said, tugging at the back of his neck.

           “ _What do you want to do_?”

           “ _Go home and go to bed_.”  His smile was sheepish, which is why you knew it was the truth.

           “Okay, _let’s do that._ ”  Tae’s eyebrow raised at you, but then he smiled and pulled you in for a bear hug.

           “ _Aish,_ ” you said, pretending to struggle, “you’ll get wet.”

           “Don’t care,” he said, holding you tighter.

 

           Mina was the one who needed convincing, and you let her and Tae work it out while you sat on the sidelines with Jisung who was calming eating his food, getting colder and colder by the minute.  Of course the problem was each “date” needed to be filmed—you couldn’t understand everything Mina was saying, but you still knew what she was saying.  And she and the camera crew couldn’t very well fit in the dorm, especially so late when all of the boys had planned on going home because they thought Tae would be out with you.  And you saw Tae’s hands flying up in a defensive manner, and his face looked so stressed and sad, and before Jisung—sweet Jisung, playing on his phone—or Mina—dear Mina, holding that bag of food you had told her she should give to J-Hope—could stop you, you rushed over and grabbed Tae’s hand and pulled him out of the building.  The rain immediately slapped you in the face again, and you only got a few feet before you heard Tae mumbling,

           “ _Aish,_ ” so when you let go of his hand and turned around to see him standing there, completely wet, his arms raised away from his body as if he thought that would help him get dry faster despite the fact that it was still raining, you were afraid he was really mad, because for a split second he looked really pissed, but when his eyes met yours he let out a laugh—a bark—and grabbed your hand to run down the street.  You couldn’t keep up the pace, but once you were far enough away from the studio Tae slowed down and let go of your hand, catching his breath.  You tried to catch yours, too, but soon Tae was dragging you through a park.

           And it didn’t even cross your mind, it really didn’t, at how similar it felt to the date you had explained to the boys days ago, the rain falling in this small playground, because it was also so different.  Tae was so different.  The way he wiped his wet hair out of his eyes as he went down a slide and almost got stuck, the way that he pushed you on the swing and tried to lay down on his stomach so he could do a Superman pose while you pushed him, the way that he laughed.  Your heart soured as you watched him flounder and stumble, his body too big for everything here.

           [And he watched you, too, the way you shut your eyes and tilted your head back to let the rain hit you as you used your feet to push off on the swing.]

           “Tae,” you said, standing above him on the little fort, trying to take a picture of him while keeping the rain off your screen, “ _I am so hungry._ ”  Laughing, Tae jumped out of his swing and waved you his way.

           And you got some greasy food and ignored Mina’s frantic and threatening texts and didn’t look twice at anyone eyeing you and Tae oddly and only slowed down when you were panting and shivering in the elevator, already trying to peel off your jacket but that only made you colder so you groaned through a smile and Tae pulled you into a hug but he was wet, too, so you were just a shivering mess together.  So the two of you raced to the dorm door and flung it open, ignoring the look Jungkook and Jimin gave you from their place on the couch, and you ran down the hallway without a word.

           “ _Wait,_ ” you said, really trying to catch your breath, “ _I want to shower._ ”

           “ _Okay, let’s do that,_ ” Tae said, trying to follow you into your room.

           “Ha ha,” you said, pressing your hand against his wet chest.

           “Ha ha,” he repeated, rocking his head back and forth with each word, but he put his bag of food down and disappeared back down the hall.  You don’t remember the last time you took such a quick shower, but the main goal was just to get warm and put on warm clothes, so you pulled on some leggings once you were done with an oversized shirt.  When you opened your door, Tae was standing there patiently in a baggy shirt and loose shirt, his hair still wet, but he pushed past you and let the door close behind him.  You stared at it for a moment, watching the small crack letting light in from the hallway and out of your room, and decided to leave it slightly open, because slightly opened meant it wasn’t closed.

           “ _My food,_ ” he said, and sat down in your desk chair to start eating.  You watched him for a second before your stomach snapped you back to attention, and you sat cross-legged on your bed to eat.  Tae spun around in your chair to look at you, his head cocked.  “ _You’ll get bugs._ ”

           “I’ll get what?”

           “ _Bugs.  Don’t eat in bed._ ”

           “Pfft, you took the chair,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

           “ _We can share,_ ” he said, patting his lap.  You blinked and may have snorted before bringing your fist to your mouth to try to stop yourself from laughing.

           “ _No,_ ” you said, shaking your head.

           “ _Why?_ ” Tae whined.  “ _I won’t tickle you,_ ” he said, wiggling his fingers.

           “Oh, that sounds super believable.  _No, I don’t trust you._ ”

           “Ah,” Tae said, sticking out his lip.

           “ _Stop, that doesn’t work on me,_ ” you said, pointing a finger at him with as serious of a face as you could manage.  And you held your finger there as he rolled the chair closer to you, and he ran his forehead into it, a smirk on his face, until he could reach your food.  Taking it slowly from you, he swung back around to put it by his on the desk and proceeded to keep eating.

           “Hey,” you said, slightly annoyed, but he didn’t turn back around.  “Tae,” you said again, but he just kept on eating.  You stood up to get your food, but when you were beside him the chair swiveled at just the right moment and one of Tae’s arms came around behind you to pull you by your hip onto his leg.  Then both of his hands pulled slightly on your hips, so you scooted back just a few inches to make sure you weren’t going to fall off.  “Brat,” you said, and then raised a finger, turning your head slightly to look at him, “ _if you touch me, I’ll_ punch you,” you ended with a nod, and his hands left your sides to pick up his chopsticks.  You did your best to keep your right arm and elbow close to your side so Tae could reach past you every time he needed to take a bite, and while you were pretty sure you were going to cut off the circulation to his leg and they would have to amputate it, he didn’t seem to mind, so you ate your food slowly and thoughtfully. 

           “ _What happened at work today_?” you said in order to take your mind off of the fact that you were sitting on Tae’s leg.  He sucked in some air.

           “ _We couldn’t agree on some things._ ”  You nodded, understanding.

           “ _That happens.  To everyone._ I couldn’t imagine living with my co-workers.  God, we’d kill each other.”  Tae seemed to smile at this, and you tried not to flinch when he said,

           “ _I’m going to put my arm around you, okay?  Please don’t punch me._ ”

           “Okay,” you whispered, and his left arm came around behind you to rest on your left hip.  You looked at Tae looking at you for a moment, your eyes taking in his whole face.

           [And he looked into your face and curled his fingers on your hip instead of pulling you closer like he wanted to.]

           When Tae put another bite of chicken into his mouth without breaking eye contact with you, you knew you had to get up.

           “Okay,” you said, the weight leaving his leg causing Tae to wiggle his knee a little, “oh, here,” you said, slapping his thigh once.

           “ _Ya!_ ” he yelled, swatting your hand away.  You only smirked at him and turned to open up your computer.

           “Okay, _I have a question,_ ” you said, pulling up a music video from another group that had come out a few months ago.  “What’s with every K-Pop group having boys locked in glass boxes?  Look, seriously, look.  Or rooftops.  Or, oh, running down hallways and turning around slowly.  Why are these concepts so popular?”  You were super passionate about figuring out the reasoning behind these things, and you showed Tae several examples and acted out some, your face too expressive, but your exaggeration made Tae laugh as he figured out what you were trying to show him after you made him watch video after video, pointing out the things that confused you.  He had plenty to say, too, commenting on the group or the dancing or getting really excited if he saw one of his friends, and you found yourself analyzing music videos and critiquing other groups with Tae being mostly if not always positive and you being harsh as you pointed out why they weren’t as good as BTS.

           You don’t even know how you ended up on the bed, your laptop on your bent knees and Tae’s head propped up on three pillows lying way too close to your neck.  You don’t even know when you stopped watching the screen and started to watch the top of Tae’s head, trying to figure out what he was thinking.  You don’t even know how it was already almost midnight. 

           [You didn’t even know Tae watched you as you got up to put your computer up and walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth, your hair messy from lying in bed.]

           “ _Hey,_ ” you said softly, standing in the doorframe of your bathroom, your arms crossed, looking at Tae on top of your bed.  “ _I need to go to bed._ ”

           “Okay,” Tae said, patting the bed behind him.

           “Ha ha,” you said, standing closer to him over the bed now.

           “ _I’m not tired,_ ” he said, but his eyes told a different store.

           “ _Well I am, go to bed.  Go to your room,_ ” you said, pointing at the door.

           “Okay,” Tae said gloomily, slowing getting off of your bed.  He got off on the side you were standing on even though the other side was closer to the door, and he stood with his shoulder pressed against yours, looking down at you.  “ _I’ll go to my room.  And then I’ll come back,_ ” he smirked and rushed out of the room before you could contradict him.  Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh when he returned with his toothbrush and went to your bathroom to brush his teeth, smiling and wiggling his eyebrows as he did.  You rolled your eyes again and got into bed, rolling onto your side.

           Despite what you had said only a few seconds ago, you wanted Tae to stay.  Your body, however, wasn’t keeping up with your brain today, so its first instinct was to flinch when you felt the bed shift as Tae added his weight to it and his arm automatically flung around you.

           “ _You okay?_ ” Tae’s voice, clearly full of concern, whispered into your neck.  You couldn’t help the shiver that rushed through you, and since it looked like your head was shaking, you answered him.

           “ _Yes.  I had fun today, Tae.  Thank you._ ”

           “ _Me too,_ ” he said, his breath once again making your skin shudder.  “ _Mina’s going to be so pissed._ ”  He chuckled, and his chest shook against your back as he pulled you closer.  And Tae’s lie earlier about not being tired was clear when within a few seconds his breath became slower and his grip on you loosened.

           You knew why you had flinched.  And you thought of what Jin had said.  There was nothing as comforting as having someone you trusted hold you as you fell asleep.  In your most vulnerable state, if someone could make you feel safe, that person would have your heart.  So you told yourself as you sighed and relaxed into Tae’s arms that it wouldn’t become a habit, because breaking it would mean breaking your heart.  This would just be Tae’s day and Tae’s night, and you would worry about getting hurt later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running through the rain may be cliche, but you can't deny it's cute.  
> Also, you know who's next now.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your "date" with Yoongi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words; panic attack.

**Day 27**

            The sound of someone purring woke you up.  Or maybe it was the mumbled voice that whispered your name in a questioning way that stirred you from sleep.  Or maybe it was the feeling of someone pulling you in tighter in a tender way, his hand running up your arm and stopping at your shoulder, one finger brushing back and forth along your shirt.  Or maybe it was your heart about to pound right out of your heart at the way he muttered your name again.  Whatever it was, you were so awake now that you needed to slow your heart rate down before you got sick, and you rolled over onto your back, Tae’s arm sliding from your shoulder across your collar bone until he brought it close to his own chest, and you rotated again until you were facing him and his messy hair and tired eyes looking at you in a manner that was way too serious for the morning.  But his whole face softened when he saw you, and he smiled at you, your heart rate decreasing as you repeated to yourself that everything was fine.

            “Good morning,” he said through his smile, and you said the same.  “You feel good,” he mumbled, and your stomach flipflopped, only allowing you to manage an idiotic,

            “Uh huh.”

            “Oh,” Tae’s eyes popped open, and you wondered if he suddenly realized where he was, “Yoongi’s day.” Giving you another smile, he rolled off of the bed and stood up in a pose as if he was practicing for the Olympics.  “Have fun,” he said as he walked to your door, giving you a thumbs-up.  “Oh, and Y/N,” he turned before closing the door, his hand still on the knob, “be careful.  Yoongi-hyung…” he looked up at the ceiling, and you almost followed his gaze in your confusion.  “ _Anyway,_ have fun!”  Be careful?  Yoongi had said the same thing almost two weeks ago about Tae, but you decided that was his weird way of warning you about the cameras.  What was Tae doing saying it?

            “What the fuck…” you said, voicing your confusion to the air.  “Great.”  Your stomach did another somersault.

 

            By the time Yoongi sent a text late that afternoon, your stomach had been practicing tumbling all day, and you had found yourself confined to your room for hours due to worrying about what Tae had said.

            “Hey, studio at 7?” Yoongi sent at five that evening.

            “Yours or BigHit’s?”

            “BigHit.”

            “See you,” you sent, and when you sat up you had to steady yourself as the blood rushed to your head.  You realized your weak state was due to nerves but also because your nerves had kept you from eating.  “Dress code?” you asked Yoongi, and you decided on a light aqua dress with a white bomber jacket and your favorite white Converse when he told you to come casual. 

            Mina loved the color on you, she said when you showed up at the studio later, and picked the perfect eyeshadow to match the dress.

            “So, yesterday,” she said, her voice a little terse.

            “Ah,” you said slowly.  You knew it would come up, but somehow it was still sooner than you had expected.  “ _I’m sorry._ I know we didn’t get anything on camera.”

            “Yes, that is a problem.  Nothing went as planned.  So we’ll just reschedule.”

            “What do you mean?” you said, watching her as she finished your makeup.

            “Another ‘date.’  We’ll figure it out later.  But we need footage.”

            “I understand.  I am sorry.  Tae just seemed really tired, and I didn’t want him to have to force himself to have a good time.”

            “Oh, that wouldn’t have been a problem,” Mina said, and you narrowed your eyes at her, but she didn’t explain.  “And that storm.  No, really, it wouldn’t have worked.  We’ll reschedule.”  You nodded, trying not to smile too widely.  You weren’t in trouble and you got to hang out with Tae again?  What a win-win situation. 

            “So did you and J-Hope like your food?” you said, and Mina tugged on your hair.  “ _Aish!!_   Come on,” you winced and tried to pull your head away from her, but she was holding fast.  She didn’t even answer you, but you swear she nodded at you and there was even a hint of Mina breaking through her professional persona with a slight smile on her lips, but whether that confirmed your suspicions or she was just enjoying torturing you, you still weren’t quite sure. Even when she said softly,

“I did,” you weren’t satisfied because you wanted details, details, Mina.  But you whimpered again as she cleared her throat, afraid she was going to fuss at you or pull your hair again.  “Yoongi doesn’t want me around tonight.”

            “What?  Why?” you were a little taken aback by the sudden change in conversation, even though you knew that’s what you were there for, and you looked at her in the mirror, trying to see if she looked sad or relieved, but it was hard to tell.  Either way, while you had felt awkward having an extra person practically third wheeling, you had done alright with Tae and Jin, but not having someone to translate also made you nervous.

            “I’m not sure, but Yoongi is pretty confident in his English as long as he’s not in America doing an interview, so I will honor his request.  Also,” she said, finishing your hair and leaving the room for a moment.  When she came back she was holding a bouquet of white daisies.  “These are for you.”

            “Thank you?” you said, and when she noticed your confusion Mina clarified with a soft laugh,

            “From Yoongi.”

            “Oh!  How sweet.”  And you smiled, but you heard Tae’s words, and touched one of the petals gently.

            “And if you’re ready, once we put on a mic, and the camera crew is ready, you can open this.”  Mina handed you a paper that was folded and taped.  Eyeing it and turning it over a couple of times, you hurried to get your mic on and stand in the lobby in front of the camera, ready to open the paper.  Curiosity over what Yoongi had planned was making you excited in a good way, and once you were giving the go ahead, you opened the paper and read it out loud, or tried to.

            “Oh, it’s in Korean.  Okay, give me a second.  Or a minute,” you said, laughing lightly.  “Hmm, I see _I_ or _me, you_ or _your,_ uh, _teacher,_ and some verb.  Oh, _today._ Today something something me your teacher.  Today,” you paused and looked at the camera, smiling, “ _I’m sorry, I’m really bad at Korean._ I think it says _today let me be your teacher,_ today I will be your teacher, or something.  Underneath it says _coffee,_ coffee, and an order for an iced Americano.”  You looked at the camera again and grinned with your lips pressed together and blinked a few times.  “I think Yoongi wants me to get him coffee.”  When Mina nodded from behind the camera, you laughed at the boy’s audacity.  “Okay, let’s go get coffee I guess.”

            Your posse of BigHit staff piled into a car, and you smiled to yourself, still not exactly sure what was going on.  At a coffee shop you ordered what Yoongi wanted and insisted on getting something for the staff, too.  Once you had the drinks, you stood outside the shop and said to the camera,

            “I don’t even like coffee, so, Yoongi, you’re welcome.”  Flashing a big grin, you climbed into the car again, where Mina handed you another piece of paper.  “Oh, yikes, this one is harder,” you said, looking at all of the Korean.  “There’s like, and I, and you, and maybe look?  Or see?  Or watch?  Help,” you said, handing it to Mina.

            “Let me show you what I like,” she explained.

            “Oh, sure, I knew that.  Uh, underneath is…” you looked at the camera, feeling like you were on The Office, “surprise, another errand.  We have to pick up food.”

            So you ordered take-away as instructed and insisted on getting some for the staff, and soon the car was full of smells and smiles, and Mina handed you another sheet.

            “Third time’s a charm,” you said, looking over the Korean.  “Spend, time, me, or with me, or me and, no, with me.  Maybe spend time with me?  Do I actually get to see Yoongi now?”  You smiled, and when Mina nodded, you nodded, too, proud of passing Yoongi’s ridiculous test.  “So the dorm?  Or his studio?”  Your question was answered as the driver eventually pulled up outside of his studio, and you got ready to head on up.

            “Go on up,” Mina said as you got out, “and thanks for the drinks and food.”

            “You’re welcome!  But what about the camera crew?”

            “There’s no room in his studio,” she explained, “so he’ll have a small one set up.”

            “Ah, okay, well, _thank you everyone for your help today,_ ” you said, bowing to the staff in the car.  They all gave you waves and said their farewells, and you found yourself riding the elevator alone, Yoongi’s drink in one hand and a bag of food in the other.  Still wary about bothering him while he was working, even though he knew you were coming, you knocked gently on the door, being careful not to spill his drink or tip any food containers over.  He opened the door cautiously, too, even though he was expecting you, and there was a moment of hesitation as his head stuck out from behind the door before he grinned and opened it wide enough for you to slip in.

            He helped you with the food by taking it from you, his hand brushing yours as he grabbed the cup of coffee and drank it down greedily.  As you sat down on the floor at the table across from him, you noticed the camera on a shelf and gave it a small wave before trying to ignore it for the rest of the evening.  It was so dim in the studio you wondered if anything would show up, anyway, but it wasn’t your job to worry about such things. 

            “ _Wow, your face,_ ” you said, pointing at him and sucking in a breath.  He looked at you funny, and you realized he probably didn’t remember what he had texted you last.  “Ah, _it looks good,_ ” you said lamely, and thankfully Yoongi smiled.

            “ _How was your day_?” you said as you dished out food for each other.  “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”  Yoongi nodded as he chewed.

            “ _Busy.  I’m tired.  But I think we’re almost ready for the concert._ How was your day?”

            “ _I’m not patient,_ ” you said.  “I think I hate waiting around when I know something is going to happen.  If that makes sense.”  Yoongi nodded again.  “And I had to wait all week.”  Yoongi nodded slower this time.

            “ _I get anxious before our concerts and shows especially.  On the day of I don’t care anymore, but beforehand, yeah._ Waiting for something good to happen is hard.”  Something good?  Your mind thought of all the good that could happen in the next hour alone, and you put your head down, a little ashamed of yourself.  You’re just here to have a good time with Yoongi.  Not that type of a good time.  Wow, why do humans have to pollute words?

            “So I ran your errands today,” you said, smiling across at him.  “Was it hard waiting?”  Yoongi smirked at you and you hid your head again.  Dumb words with their double meanings. 

            “ _I was busy, so no time to think or do anything else._ Thank you.  _I’m bad at dates._ Bad at ideas for dates.”

            “ _Is this all_?  Are we doing anything else?  _What’s the plan_?” you said.  Yoongi shrugged, taking his hat off and ruffling his hair before putting it back on.

            “This?”  There was an air of apprehension and nervousness in his voice.  “I,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I wanted to…”  You couldn’t reach him, but you stuck your legs out under the table until your foot hit his knee.

            “ _It’s great._ It’s chill.  I think,” you said, looking around his studio at his various knickknacks, “ _I feel very glad_ to be here.  To be welcomed into your space means a lot to me.”  You wanted nothing but for him to feel comfortable in his own space, so you smiled reassuringly at him, and he smiled back.

            “Oh!” he said, scrambling up and turn around to his desk.  “This is for you.”  He handed you a piece of paper like the previous ones you had received today, taped at the edges.  You started to open it, but he grabbed its by its edges, “Uh, open it later?”

            “Okay,” you said softly, and put the letter in your jacket pocket.

            “Oh, and,” he said again, and you smiled at how excited he looked when he went to his keyboard.  His fingers were as graceful as ever as he began lightly pressing on the keys, the notes themselves telling a story.  You tried to listen; you wanted to hear what they were trying to say, what Yoongi was trying to say, but you couldn’t stop looking at Yoongi’s face.  He licked his lips and closed his eyes, squinted at the keys occasionally, and rocked his head back and forth as he played.  He had stopped and had been staring at you for several moments before you noticed, and you blinked, losing the images that the sounds had created before you.  Your face felt slack, and you were afraid your mouth was opened too wide, so you closed it and licked your lips before opening it again.  The look between you broke as Yoongi turned back to the keyboard and turned it off, but you were up on your knees, shuffling over to him, saying,

            “Play it again?”  He turned back to you slowly as you came up to him, your hands resting on his arm rest as his arm hovered over the keyboard.  He lowered his arm slowly back into his lap, and his eyes shifted over your head before he turned the piano back on and began playing again.  You watched his hands this time and the ways his arms twitched slightly with each key pressed.  As someone who knew how to play piano, you understood the subtle skill behind being able to press a key lightly or quickly or forcefully.  The control Yoongi had over each key with each finger was impressive, and you sat back on your knees as you finished, a dumb smile on your face.

            “ _You’re so good,_ ” you said, and he smiled sheepishly at you.  “You’re so lucky.”

            “ _What do you mean?_ ” he said, looking down at you.

            “You love music, don’t you?”

            “More than anything.”

            “You love what you do.  Your job is something you love,” you explained.  “And you’re passionate and talented.  And people get to watch you.  That’s rare.  Most jobs don’t have audiences, if that makes sense.  And I think that means people don’t get to know most people.  Because seeing someone at work, or doing something they love, is seeing someone in another light.  Seeing you play music.  I feel like I get to see the real you.”  You shrugged and glanced away, feeling awkward and unsure if he understood you.  Yoongi thought for a moment before replying.

            “Is it the same with teaching?”

            “Teaching?  Well, my audience are students.  So my friends don’t know a side of me that my students do.  And that side is more of who I am, I think.  Does that make sense?” you said, continuing to be unsure, but Yoongi nodded. 

            “ _Do you love teaching_?”

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said, unable to hide your smile.  “Even with all its downsides and hardships.  What’s the hardest part of your job?”  Yoongi’s answer came immediately.

            “Airports.”  You couldn’t help but laugh at the seriousness of his face, but not his answer, as you imagined all of the things that gave you anxiety at airports.

            “ _Why?_ ”

            “ _People.  Just too many people.  Pushing and shoving, cameras,_ ” he said, using his hands to act out such a situation.

            “Is it worth it?”  Yoongi hummed and nodded, but also added,

            “ _Some days it makes me want to quit.  But airport days are temporary, and the pain doesn’t last._ ”

            “Still,” you said, but both of you trailed off.  He moved off of his chair and sunk to the floor beside you, resting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand.  And then he just stared at you.  And you stared back until you couldn’t, chuckling and asking him,

            “ _What_?”

            “ _Nothing,_ let’s go,” he said, hopping up and grabbing the camera from the shelf.  After fiddling with it, he put it in his bag that he slung on his back.  Putting on a facemask, he opened the door for you.  “Ready?”  You nodded and moved past him, leading him to the elevator.

            And he stood on the other side of the elevator, his hands in his pockets, so you put yours in your jacket’s, and your eyes avoided each other. 

            But on the walk back to the dorm his elbow found yours, and your jackets swished against each other.  But Yoongi took a step away from you whenever someone came down the sidewalk your way, putting his face down.

            But after one corner Yoongi pointed out a sign, and you pointed out a tree, and your hands didn’t return to your pockets.  Yours swung back and forth, glad to be free to move with your legs as you walked, but Yoongi’s returned to his pockets, his shoulders hunched as he walked.  When Yoongi told you the two of you were going to watch a movie, knowing it might be boring, you lit up anyway, moving your hands in front of you as you discussed your favorite films.  But when you were done your arms hung by your side, and your feet stopped when you felt long, slender fingers wrap around your hand.  Yoongi stopped as well but didn’t let go as he turned into you slowly.

            “ _What_?” he said, his voice low.  Your brain was racing.  Holding hands was no big deal.  You had held a lot of hands this week.  People held hands platonically all the time.  

            “ _Someone’s coming,_ ” you said lamely, which is not at all what you wanted to say, because you didn’t want him to drop your hand, but it was true, and he did let go of your fingers.  As he started to walk on, his head down, you cursed silently and followed behind him.  Your eyes kept glancing down to his fingers, though, and the thought of touching them was way too distracting.  Finally, as you stopped at a crosswalk, you reached forward to find his pinky finger, and you wrapped your fingers around it.  Yoongi’s head looked both ways on the street before he started to walk, his finger slipping from your hand.  Disappointed, you gave up walking behind him and walked beside him again, wanting to go back to two minutes ago when you were laughing about movies.  So you almost stopped again in surprise when after a couple passed you Yoongi’s hand found yours again as he casually said,

            “What day was best this week?  Which guy?”

            “Aish,” you hissed, trying not to look down at your hands.  “That’s not fair.

            “I won’t get my feelings hurt,” he said, squeezing your hand.

            “Aish,” you groaned.  “Namjoon?”  And he freaking let go of your hand, and if it was a real date you guess you’d accept that, as talking about other guys on a date was definitely a “no-go,” but another group of people was coming toward you, so you told yourself that was why, and you thought that if you were dating you would be annoyed, as if he was ashamed or embarrassed of being seen in public with you, but you weren’t, and you were annoyed at the situation and yourself and plunged your hands back into your jacket pockets, placing your head down and walking a little bit faster.  Yoongi copied your movements but with a frown on his face.  And the rest of the walk was quiet, the two of you clearly stuck in your own heads, and he kept his distance again until you were both in the elevator again, and you leaned against the wall opposite him, but you felt him looking at you, so you looked at him.

            “ _What_?” you said, though you managed to sound more curious than frustrated.

            “Come here,” he said softly.

            “Did you just tell me what to do?” you said, and he smirked at you, so you took two steps toward him.  He brought his hands out of his pocket and reached forward to grab onto your jacket and pull you closer to him.  You may have yelped as you staggered toward him, and even though he had already let go of you, and he wasn’t that much taller than you, you were looking up at him.

            “ _What_?” you said, cocking your head.

            “What?” he said, smirking back.

            “Aish,” you rolled your eyes and put your hand on his chest to push yourself away from him as the door dinged, but his hand shot up to grab it and held onto it as you walked to the dorm door.  You knew none of the rest of the boys would be home, which only made you more nervous as Yoongi leaned across you, his face way too close to yours, to punch in the code for the door.  As he was returning to your side, you blew on his face, and he let go of your hand to rub at his cheek.

            “Ya!” he said, opening the door.  “ _Gross._ ”

            “Yeah, yeah,” you said, following him in and turning on the lights.  Plopping down on the couch, you began to take your shoes off while Yoongi poured glasses of water for the pair of you.  As he placed them on the table, he noticed your feet and made a face.

            “Oh, _sorry,_ ” you said, going to put your shoes back on.

            “ _No, the socks,_ ” he said, almost groaning.  Looking down, you noticed your socks didn’t match.  They were both white, but one had a gray toe coverage while the other one was plain.

            “Oh.  Oh, does this bother you?”  Yoongi nodded, and you couldn’t help but laugh, pulling both of your socks off.  “ _Sorry, won’t happen again._ ”  Taking off your jacket, you pulled your feet onto the couch and grabbed a pillow to hug in front of you.  You watched absentmindedly as Yoongi put in some movie and messed with setting up the camera on the table in front of you.

            “Really?” you said when he had turned it on.  “People are going to watch us watch a movie?”  Yoongi shrugged as he finished setting up the movie and took off his own shoes and socks and his hat before sitting on the opposite side of the couch as you.  “Okay, I bet you fall asleep,” you said.  “If you do, the camera goes off.”  Yoongi smiled and didn’t deny it.

            “We could talk,” he suggested, but you cut him off.

            “No, shh.” 

            The two of you lasted for the first ten minutes of the movie before Yoongi stirred and leaned forward to grab the camera.

            “ _This is boring, goodbye._ ”  Putting it down, he leaned back on the couch and took a deep breath.

            The two of you lasted for another ten minutes of the movie before Yoongi turned to you.

            “Y/N, come here.”

            “Are you telling me what to do?” you said again, not even bothering to look at him.

            “Y/N,” he said again, and you saw his leg on the couch out of the corner of your eye.

            “Don’t you dare,” you warned him, but his foot only got closer to you until his toe was poking your arm.  “Ya!  Gross,” you said, smacking his leg and scooting away from him.

            “Y/N,” Yoongi said again, his voice closer and almost whiney as he moved down the couch toward you.

            “Shh,” you said, ignoring him again. 

            “Y/N,” he said, his black hair falling into his forehead as he shook his head at you, “you really think I’m attractive?”  You still didn’t look at him—why was he bringing that up?  That was over a week ago—but you whined,

            “ _Yes.  Why_?”  You knew he was smiling without even looking at him. 

            “That piano.  The picture.  It reminded me of me.  _A beautiful broken mess._ ”  You felt like someone was pricking your heart, and because you wanted to reach over and take his face in your hands and comfort him you willed yourself not to react.  “Look at me,” he said, the playfulness in his voice gone.  But you didn’t, not yet, and one of his hands found the hem of your skirt on your thigh pressed against the couch.  Your leg visibly moved away from him, and it was then that you looked at him.

            “ _What_?” you said, though you managed to sound more frustrated than curious.  You let go of the pillow in front of you to move his hand away from your leg, but he twisted out of your grasp and grabbed your hand, placing it on his own knee that almost hung over the edge of the couch.  “Yoongi, _what are you doing_?  The camera’s off.  You don’t even want me here.”  You might as well have slapped the boy, and his grip loosened from your hand.  But his voice remained soft as he looked into your eyes. 

            “ _I never said that._ ”  You scrunched your face at him but didn’t say anything, not wanting to fight or use his own words against him.  Your heart felt pricked or flipped at the next thing he said.  “ _You’re beautiful._ ”

            “Ya, _stop,_ ” you replied, completely serious.  “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”  Yoongi’s head dropped, and he leaned it into your shoulder.  You flinched but didn’t move away.

            “Y/N,” he whispered.  “You…I want…”  Your god damn breath was hitching so much you thought you might pass out right then and there.  His proximity and touching you wasn’t helping how confused you are about what he had said and what the stupid rules said, and you shifted a little away from him, bringing your hands up to place his shoulders and push away from him.

            “Yoongi,” you said, holding him away from you.  You wanted him to stay away from you because you wanted him to be close to you, and your breath almost completely stopped when he didn’t respond except to pick up the pillow on your lap and drop it on the floor and put a hand around your waist, pulling you close and pushing you down as he moved his chest toward you until you were lying on the couch.  You could feel how wide your eyes were, and your hands became noodles, falling from his shoulders onto your chest that was rapidly rising and falling as you looked into Yoongi’s eyes that were burrowing into you as his hand slid out from under you to rest on your hip.  The pressure frightened you.  And when you felt his knees placed on both sides of one of your legs and his other hand took one of your hands—gently, he was so gentle, you knew—and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, your chest tightened.  When he placed your hand above your head and leaned lower toward you, his hand leaving your hip to trail up your side, you tried to wiggle away from him—and his eyes were so wide and his hands were so soft and his breath was so near—but you felt only pressure—someone was sitting on your chest, someone was putting his hand under your dress, someone was clasping a hand over your mouth—and your hands came to life as you shook your hips, flinging off his arms and shouting,

            “Stop!”

            [If you had looked at him, you would have seen his eyes flash in anger at himself before melting at the sight of you.]

            But you had curled away from him toward the couch, your knees close to your chest as you hugged yourself with shaking arms and hands, your eyes glazing over as you stared at the material of the couch in front of you.

            “Y/N?” Yoongi was saying, but you didn’t hear him.

            [If you had heard him, you would have heard his voice crack and shake as he whispered your name over and over again in a pleading and then desperate way.]

            But you could only hear the sound of you heart beating and the blood rushing to your head and your ears ringing as voices shouted at you.  And you heard yourself shout when someone touched your arm, telling it to not touch you, leave you alone, and you heard nothing.

            [If you could, you would have heard Min Yoongi trying to write a rap with only two words, alternating between “shit” and “fuck” as he panicked.]

            But all you heard was yourself breathing because it was the only thing you could do.  And you shut your eyes to see only darkness.

            [If you could, you would have rolled over to see Yoongi pacing back and forth, rubbing his hands through his hair and down his pants and then creating fists to pull out his hair and jam into his leg.  You would have seen him pull out his phone and dial Namjoon with shaking fingers and ask him for help with only confusion and fear lacing his voice and then searching for your phone in your jacket pocket while his was pressed against his ear.   You would have seen him fumble to open your it—you had never used a passcode, telling yourself you were too lazy to use one every time you wanted to see your phone screen—and search through your contacts.  You would have seen him hang up with Namjoon and put your phone on speaker phone and hold it in a shaking hand in front of him.]

            “Y/N?” you heard a voice from far away, from miles away calling you.

            [“Hello, uh, my name is Min Yoongi, I’m with Y/N.”

            “Oh, one of the BTS boys?”

            “Yes ma’am, _I_ …Y/N…”

            “Is she alright?”

            “ _Yes_.  Yes.  _I think_?  She’s here but…”]

            “Y/N?” you thought you heard your mom calling you, and you opened your eyes.  But she was home, and you were having trouble breathing.

            [“What happened, Mr. Min?”

            “ _I’m sorry,_ I’m sorry, _I just touched her._ ”

            “Did she throw up yet?  Get sick?”

            “No…”]

            “Y/N?” you were really hearing your mom, but her voice sounded odd, crackled and fake, not at all soothing.  “It’s mom.  Where are you?  Y/N?”

            [Yoongi leaned the phone closer to you but dared not touch you again.]

            “Couch,” you croaked.

            “Okay, go to the bathroom.”  You only groaned in response, your body convulsion.  “Are you going?”  You obeyed slowly, your body shaking again, and you felt it coming.  Brushing past someone standing in your way, you moved slowly down the hall to your bathroom, your body shaking more and more until you finally doubled over, throwing up.

            [“Shit,” Yoongi mumbled, running his hand through his hair again, trying not to drop the phone to help you.]

            “Okay Y/N, just breathe.  Where are you?”

            “Bathroom,” you groaned through the sick in your mouth.

            “Ready to brush your teeth?”

            “Mom,” you whined, your eyes feeling with tears.

            “I’m here.  Where’s your toothbrush?”

            “In my drawer,” you said a matter-of-factly.  “Don’t you see it?”

            “No, I need your help.”

            “Okay, I’ll get it,” you sighed, dragging yourself off of the ground to open your drawer and put paste on your tooth brush.  You rubbed it numbly over your teeth and then swished water around before spitting.

            [Yoongi was almost hiding in the corner, not wanting to be in the way; he wanted to run away, in fact, but he couldn’t leave you.]

            “She needs to shower,” your mom was saying to someone. 

            “I’ll just go to bed,” you sighed, a tear running down your face.

            “Y/N, are you crying?”

            “Yes, mom, I just.  I should’ve…Mom, I want to come home.”

            [Yoongi’s body almost doubled over, and he dug his fingers into his own palm, cursing himself and finally putting the phone down before leaving the bathroom unnoticed.]

            “Think about that tomorrow.  Just shower for now.  You know you’ll feel better.”

            “I’m too tired,” you whined, but she insisted.  Sighing again, you pulled your hair out of its pony tail and stepped into the shower, shaking as the cold water fell over you.  You watched it run down your dress, the fabric sticking more and more to your skin, but as the water warmed you did feel better, though a few more tears escaped.  “Mom?” you said suddenly, your voice panicked.

            “Yeah, Y/N, I’m here, where are you?”

            “Shower.  Hey mom, are you disappointed in me?”

            “Never,” you heard her say, but her voice was cracking.  It was shaking, and you heard her say your name one more time.  Looking up from your feet, your eyes registered the shower curtain and the steam collecting in the air.  To your left you saw your phone resting on the closed toilet seat, your mom’s face on the screen.  Hurriedly turning the water off and grabbing a towel, you wrapped yourself up and picked up the phone, turning the speaker off.

            “Mom?” you said, confused.  “Did I call you?”

            “No dear, Min did.”

            “Min?  Yoongi?”

            “Yes, him.  Are you okay?”

            “Yeah,” you said, though your voice seemed far away.  “I.  I gotta go, mom, I’ll talk to you later.  I love you.”

            “I love you.  Text me soon,” you heard her say before you hung up.  You walked slowly through your room, your hair and clothes dripping under the towel.  Down the hall your feet padded softly, your heart beating quickly again.  When you walked into the living room you stopped and sunk to the floor at the sight of the couch.

            That was where Namjoon found you minutes later as he burst through the door, Jisung and Mina close behind him.  You looked up at him once, his eyes wide in fear and his face so full of concern; you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms, but you convulsed at the thought at the same time, and your disgust with yourself seemed to be the very thing snaking its way through you.  You don’t know which of them said your name first.  You sat with your head on your knees pulled up to your chest, your arms wrapped around your still wet legs and simply said,

            “I messed up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi and you struggle to deal with what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 28**

            You didn’t know where you were.

            He knew where he was.

            They knew where you were.

            They didn’t know where he was.

            You were in a strange bed in a foreign bedroom hearing unknown voices down the hall.

            He was drunk by a bridge, wallowing in self-hatred, trying to tear it out without tearing himself apart.

            They had sent you home with Mina.

            They searched all night for him.

            You moved carefully, quietly, anxiously down the hall, and almost had a heart attack as a small child went past you, laughing, her pigtails swishing back and forth as she ran.

            He moved carefully, quietly, anxiously down the road, his head stooping from the weight of the anger and hatred he carried.

            They made no move to you even if they wanted to; you were in Mina’s hands.

            They moved carefully, quietly, anxiously to try to find Yoongi.

 

            “Y/N!” someone was saying, but you couldn’t stop staring at the little girl at your feet.  She was peering up at you with deep brown eyes that gleamed like her teeth she kept flashing at you.  She didn’t seem real. 

            “Y/N,” came the voice again, and you started when you felt someone’s hand almost touch your shoulder.  You pried your eyes slowly away from the girl to see Mina standing next to her, her hand in the air, hovering near you.

            “Mina,” you said, and she nodded gently.  “Who’s this?”  You pointed at the little girl, and as you blinked your eyes you became aware of the rest of the room.  “Who’s that?”  You pointed at a woman cooking in the kitchen. 

            “This is Mi-Hi,” Mina said, stooping down to pick up the little girl who waved at you right on cue.  “And that is her mom, Hae.  My sister.”

            “Oh,” you said, your eyes finally waking up.  “ _Hello, it’s nice to meet you,_ ” you said, bowing to Mi-Hi, who giggled.  You walked past Mina to give her sister a bigger bow.  She definitely looked like Mina; her eyes were soft, but they clearly held the power to intimidate you. “ _Thank you for welcoming me into your home._ ”

            “ _Oh, her Korean’s better than you made it sound like,_ ” Hae said, smiling.  Mina groaned a little, and you had caught enough of what was said to smile at her.

            “Do you live here?” you asked Mina, and she nodded.

            “Seoul’s expensive,” she explained.  “It’s normal for families to still live together even at my age.  Until I get married myself, I’ll probably be here.”

            “ _And_ _you worked for BTS_?” you asked Hae, who also nodded and smiled.

            “ _Best job I ever had.  The company’s amazing, and the boys are the best in the business._ ”  You found yourself nodding slowly, and you began to remember why you were here.

            “Ah, Mina,” you said, your stupid allergies making your eyes burn again, “could I…”

            “Oh, yeah, _Mi-Hi, let go, no, not now, go bother your mom,_ ” Mina was trying to put down Mi-Hi, but she kept clinging to her leg, so she finally picked her up and stuck her on Hae’s leg who only patted her daughter’s head once before resuming her work.  “Let’s go in here.”  She waved you back down the hall to the room you had just left, which you realized was Mina’s room.  You paused in the doorway, feeling like an intruder, but she patted the bed beside her, so you climbed on top of it, rubbing your stupid watering eyes again as you did so.

            “So,” Mina said, and you could tell she was struggling to balance her professional tone with a softer, more personal one, but she really was always one or the other.  “I’m not sure…”

            “I’m not either.  What happened last night?” you said, playing with the bottom of your shirt.  It was one of yours, you knew that much.

            “Oh,” Mina said softly.  “I was hoping.  Well, Yoongi called Namjoon, who told me we needed to go to the dorm as soon as possible.  When we got there you were in the living room.  In a towel.  You kept saying you messed up.”  You hummed at that and brought your knees to your chest so you could rest your head against them.  “But you didn’t explain.”

            “I can’t,” you muttered.

            “It will be okay.  What happened?”

            “I can’t go back there,” you said.

            “To the dorm?”

            “Not yet.  I messed up.”  Damn your stupid eyes leaking all over the place when you didn’t want them to.

            “What happened?  Where is Yoongi?”  It was a question of concern, but to your ears it sounded purely accusatory.

            “What do you mean?” you said, looking up at Mina, and blast your red freaking eyes for burning so much.

            “Well, he wasn’t there.  Or in his studio.  And he hasn’t answered his phone all night.”

            “What?” you said, the pit in your stomach about to swallow you.  “He…” You looked around the room, but there was nowhere to look, nowhere to go, but you couldn’t look at Mina, so you ducked your head again against your knees.  “He touched me, and I freaked out.  The next thing I knew I was in the shower.  And then you and Namjoon and Jisung showed up.  And now I’m here.”

            “What do you mean he touched you?”

            “He just touched me,” you said, your whole body shaking now, “and I freaked out.  It’s all my fault.  I messed up.”  Later, days later, much later, you would look back and be grateful for how patiently Mina waited for your cries to subside.  How without a word she handed you a tissue.  How she didn’t blame you or agree with you about it being your fault.  How, in short, good of a friend she was by just sitting there listening to you.  “I can’t go back there,” you finally said, running your hand over your entire face as if to wipe it all away.

            “Do you want to go home?”  Mina asked gently, because it was a big question.  What had you said to your mom?  What had she told you?  You didn’t really mean it…

            “No,” you said, shaking your head.  “No, but, this is so stupid, I’m sorry I can’t explain myself, I just need time.  I don’t know how to look at them right now.”  You didn’t want to look at anyone.  You didn’t want anyone to look at you.  You pictured Namjoon smiling that reassuring smile at you, and you pressed your forehead harder against your knees.

            “You did nothing wrong,” Mina finally said, but you shook your head.

            “I panicked.  I shouldn’t have panicked.”

            “Why did you?”  You groaned at that question.

            “I don’t know.  I hate my body; it does things I don’t want it to.  I mean, I got scared.  Had some stupid flashbacks or something.  I know Yoongi wouldn’t hurt me.  He wasn’t trying to hurt me,” you said, slamming your head against your knees and stifling a cry again.  “I’m such a fuck up.”

            “Y/N,” Mina said sternly, her professional voice coming out.  “Did Yoongi hurt?”

            “No,” you muttered.

            “Were you afraid he was going to?”

            “No, I wasn’t afraid of him, honestly.”

            “Okay.  He needs to know that,” she said.  You lifted your head to look at Mina.  She was really beautiful, the way her hair fell straight on her shoulders, the way her eyes smiled when she cared about someone.  “Yoongi…Well,” she sighed and looked around the room, her eyes resting on a portrait of her with the boys on her desk.  “I don’t know if he’d want me telling you.  But he’s really hard on himself.  He’ll blame himself.”

            “Shit,” you groaned again, banging your head against the headboard of the bed.  “I can’t go back there, I’m too embarrassed,” you said, staring up at the ceiling.

            “Okay, take the time you need.  You know the boys will support you, right?”  You didn’t answer, thinking about how low the ceiling was, like it was slowly falling on you.  “Y/N, you know that, right?  You know they trust you, and that you’re here for a reason, right?  No one else, just you.”  When would the ceiling crush you already?  You had difficulty lifting your all-too-heavy head to look at Mina through your blurred vision.

            “I know,” you said, and you did, and that was just one reason why you were extra mad at yourself, wasting this opportunity, bothering the boys, making their lives harder instead of better.  “Can you get some of my things from the dorm?”

            “Of course.  Whatever you need.”

            “I’ll make you a list,” you said, standing up, but then standing there awkwardly because you didn’t know where anything is.  Thankfully Mina understood and quickly brought you some paper and a pen.  As you gave her the list with instructions on where everything was, she held the hand you stretched out to her when she took the paper and gave it a slight squeeze.

            “Text me if you think of anything else, okay?” she said, and you nodded.  “Hae will feed you whatever you want, and Mi-Hi is a great playmate if you feel up to it.  Oh, you know sign language, right?”

            “ _Yes,_ well, American sign language.”

            “Oh, Mi-Hi is Deaf, so maybe you can teach her some.  I’m sure most of the signs are similar.  We’ve been trying to teach her, but she’s really stubborn.  I don’t know where she gets that from,” Mina said, smiling knowingly.

            “Okay,” you said, your heart warming at the thought.  “Thank you, Mina.  Really.”

            “Of course.  Oh,” she said as she stood in the doorway, “I did put an extra toothbrush in the bathroom, and your jacket is by the sink.”  With a small head nod, she left you alone.  For a few deep breaths you just sat on the bed, trying not to be too nosy in Mina’s room.  Even though your limbs felt like lead, you made yourself get up to go to the bathroom and brush your teeth.  Avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror while you did, you saw your jacket and your favorite black jeans and maroon shirt.  Your eyes started watering again.  “You sure like those pants,” you almost heard Namjoon say.

            “Ya, shut up,” you told yourself as you changed clothes.  It may be stupid, but you felt a tiny bit better.  And you put on your jacket even though you weren’t cold, because you wanted to feel warm, and you sat back on the bed with your hands in your pockets.  And your fingers brushed up against something, and you ran them over and around it, feeling its edges before you drew it out.  It was a bit crumpled now, but you knew it was what Yoongi had given to you yesterday.  Was that only yesterday?  “Open it later,” he had said.  And part of you wanted to burn it now and never read it, but that was the side of you that wasn’t really you, and you told it to politely fuck off as you gently opened the paper.  By the time you finished translating it, you were crying again, but this time your tears weren’t for yourself.

            _Y/N,_

_I told you I wanted to walk with you, so I hope tonight we finally did.  I hope after this week things can go back to normal.  Whatever that is.  I’m not sure at the moment.  And I’m sorry about that.  I can tell you like a routine, and our lives are very scattered.  We are organized, and we are busy, but our daily schedule is always so different.  Thank you for being flexible with us.  Especially this week.  I do hope it hasn’t been too awkward for you.  If I was you, I would hate it.  I hate it because I am me.  I may be a genius, but I am really clueless sometimes.  Why did you say I was attractive?  Why don’t you do what I tell you to do?  Why do you keep telling me what to do?  I hope I don’t mess up our date today.  I’m bound to.  I’m too morose around you.  I should smile more.  Is sitting around too boring for you?  Are you okay with just being with me?_

_Shit, this is the worst letter I’ve ever written.  Why am I even writing it instead of just talking to you?  I think it’s because I think you want to hear my thoughts, and usually I’m much better at this writing thing.  That picture of you at that piano.  I said it reminded me of me, because I’m a mess.  A beautiful mess.  And so are you, you know?  So is Namjoon.  So are we all.  But someone can come along and still play our keys, and some parts of us won’t make any sound for them, while others will sing.  I just want to play the right keys for you, Y/N.  Will you please teach me?  I’ve heard I have a gift for the piano._

            Something was pulling your hand.  Someone was tugging at your fingers.  Something tiny was trying to move you.  With a smile on your lips, you opened your eyes to see Mi-Hi at the side of the bed, holding your hand.

            “ _Hello,_ ” you said, and gave her a small wave.  Giving you a small wave herself, she left you to dash down the hall.  You had fallen asleep after crying like some giant baby.  Yawning and slapping your face a bit, you told yourself you would treat this as the real start of the day even though the nap made you feel even worse, your head disoriented and your stomach nauseous.  Surely some food and downtime could help while you waited for Mina to bring you some things back.  You looked at your phone to see several texts from your mom, so you quickly sent her an update, feeling a tiny bit better knowing she loved you and had been there for you despite being in another country.  When you finished, your hands trembled a little as you opened your last conversation with Yoongi.  Taking a deep breath, you sent a slew of texts without waiting for a reply.

            “Yoongi, _go home._ The boys are worried.  _I’m sorry.  I forgive you._   And whatever else needs to be said later.  _I am sorry.  Please go home._ ”

            It was almost an hour later, after you had let Hae feed you and Mi-Hi play with your hair and hold your hands as you signed different words for her and Mina came back with your clothes and a kind smile on her face, ready to help make a plan, when your phone buzzed.

            “ _Are you telling me what to do?_ ”  You laughed, even though it sounded more like a cry of relief, and simply replied.

            “ _Yes._ ”

 

            It was always too dark in his studio.  The boy was going to ruin his eyesight.  Sighing, Namjoon lowered himself onto the table, lacing his hands together in front of him, eyeing the boy on the couch.

            “ _Don’t sigh at me, Namjoon,_ ” Yoongi muttered, not bothering to open his eyes.

            “ _I’m not sighing at you, Yoongi._ ”

            “ _You’re a terrible liar, you know._ ”

            “ _Well, so are you.  Or we just know each other too well._ ”

            “ _That’s it,_ ” Yoongi said, waving his finger at Namjoon but still not opening his eyes.  “ _You really annoy me._ ”

            “ _I love you, too._ ” 

            “ _Pfft,_ ” Yoongi said, but he smiled briefly.  His smile melted almost immediately, though, as his brows furrowed.  “ _Is she okay_?”

            “ _Yes,_ ” Namjoon said softly.  “ _She’s with Mina.  Yoongi, what happened?_ ”  The boy clenched his fists and squinted his already shut eyes harder.

            “ _What I told you on the phone.  I touched her, and she pushed me away and screamed, and then it was like she wasn’t there.  After we hung up I called her mom and let her talk to her.  Then I left._ ”

            “ _Yoongi, you shouldn’t have left her,_ ” Namjoon said, his voice still gentle.

            “ _I know, I fucked up.  Is she really okay_?” One of his eyes peeped open, looking up at Namjoon.  He nodded slowly, and Yoongi closed his eyes again.  “ _Can you leave me alone now_?”

            “ _No.  Come home and take a shower and eat with us.  Why didn’t you answer our phone calls?  Where were you all day?_ ”

            “ _You know why, Namjoon,_ ” Yoongi said, groaning and holding his head as he sat up and leaned back on the couch.  “ _I’m going to stay here tonight.  But I’m okay, I swear._ ”

            “ _You smell._ ”

            “ _Thanks,_ ” Yoongi said, a small smile on his lips that fled all too quickly.  Namjoon watched him for a moment before picking up his phone.  “ _What are you doing?_ ” Yoongi muttered.

            “ _Texting Hoseok.  We might as well work if we’re going to be here._ ”

            “ _We_?” Yoongi said, his eyes flitting open to glare at Namjoon.  Namjoon only hummed and turned to his phone before getting up and sitting in Yoongi’s chair, taking it for a spin.  “ _Ya, get out of my chair._ ”

            “ _Then get off the couch._ ”  Grumbling, Yoongi complied, and sat staring at Namjoon from his chair.

            “ _I hate you, you know_?”

            “ _I know,_ ” Namjoon said, smiling at him.  It was a reassuring smile, and it comforted Yoongi more than he would admit.  Still, he couldn’t help the stab of guilt he felt when he saw your name on his phone from earlier.  And his fingers hovered over his phone, waiting to write something back, but he threw his phone down on his desk and stuck on his headphones, his fingers going to work on the keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is running away an option?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 29**

            What would help the most was obviously talking to Yoongi and getting past all of “this,” but you were years away from wanting to do that.  Not years.  But days.  Hours?  You needed time and space.  Which was a nicer way of saying you only wanted to distract yourself and not think about anything unpleasant.  Which would be hard, considering the world was a shitty place.

            But Mi-Hi helped you forget that there was ever anything bad in the world.  As you sat on the couch the following morning—you had insisted that Mina take her bed back despite how persistent she was in opposing you—you kept putting your hands on Mi-Hi’s face to squish her cheeks while she did the same to you, huge smiles being shared by the both of you.  The pure innocence in her eyes melted your heart, and you finally couldn’t resist picking her up to hold her in your lap and wrap your arms around her.  Her giggle made your heart swell, and she started to pat your hands.  You didn’t even care what time it was, and when Hae came in a few minutes later to find you and Mi-Hi rolling around on the floor, her look of concern faded.  She signed something to Mi-Hi who rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and slumped away, and you couldn’t help but smile at her exaggerated posture.

            “ _Sorry if she woke you up,_ ” Hae said as she moved around the kitchen.

            “ _No, she didn’t.  She’s really cute._ ”  Hae smiled and nodded when you asked, “ _May I ask you a question?  Did you…Was it hard…How…_ ”

            “You can ask in English,” Hae said nonchalantly, and you laughed in embarrassment. 

            “Oh, _sorry._ I didn’t know.”

            “I taught Mina everything she knows,” Hae said, her eyes smiling, so you laughed again, getting up from the floor to wash your hands and help her cook breakfast.

            “This is a dumb question, but was it hard to work with the boys?  I mean, did you fall for any of them?  Have trouble concentrating on work with them around?”  Hae shrugged.

            “They were always distracting because they were goofing off a lot.  But not in the way you mean.  I had a boyfriend when I started working for them.  So I wasn’t tempted, as you might say,” she said, winking at you.  “Now, Mina on the other hand.”  You stopped what you were doing, your hands hanging on to a towel.  “I know this isn’t a pleasant situation for you, but I’m glad you’re here.  Mina doesn’t get many days off, so I’m glad that she can sleep in today.”

            “Then I’m glad,” you said, because you really were, though you wish Hae had been clearer in what she meant about Mina “on the other hand.”  You concentrated on helping her by feeding Mi-Hi and taking small bites after every bite she took, sharing a smiling with her each time, only finding courage enough to ask about her father—away on a business trip—before enjoying the quiet the rest of the morning.

            But by ten when Mina finally woke and sat looking messy for the first time since you had first met her—and yet still so pretty—as she yawned in-between sips of coffee, you knew you needed to really get away.  If you were at home you would get in your car and go for a drive with music blasting or go to a nearby town for a quick getaway, but you were miles from home.

            “Mina,” you said, bouncing your leg anxiously, “could I have a few days to myself?  To go see some other things in Korea.  Visit Daegu and Busan, climb some more mountains.”

            “Busan?” Mina said, only half awake still.  “But that’s so far away.”

            “It’s like less than two hours away.   You forget I’m from Texas.  South Korean can fit in Texas more than five times.”  Her eyes widened at that, and she took another sip of coffee, clearly thinking about it.  Was she professional Mina right now, or friend Mina?

            “I don’t think I could get away,” she said half to herself.

            “I can go by myself.  I mean, I’ve traveled internationally before alone, and I feel much more confident with Korean now.  I wouldn’t have felt comfortable three weeks ago, but I can get by now.  I would use my own money, obviously, and just go for a few nights,” you said, biting your lip and feeling once again like you were asking your mom for permission to go stay at a friend’s house for the weekend.  Mina should say yes, you were an adult, but you would also understand if she said no.

            “Maybe Jisung can go,” Mina said as she stared past you at nothing.

            “Jisung?  I mean, really, I can go alone.”

            “To drive you and protect you.  No filming or anything,” Mina clarified.  “Unless you want to film what you see.”

            “If that’s what it takes for you to let me go, I’m fine with that.  I like Jisung,” you said, smiling.  “Even if he can’t speak English, I think I’ll get by alright.  And,” you thought for a moment, “we can take a camera.  It would be good to document what I see, even if it’s just for me.  Would that be alright?”

            “Of course,” Mina said, her professionalism coming back as she stretched and finished her coffee.  “Let me talk to the boys about it today and let you know?  Can you hang out here today?”

            “Sure,” you said, though your stomach rattled a bit at the mention of the boys.  On the one hand, you didn’t want Mina talking about you to them or talking for you.  On the other hand, you felt helpless in facing them yourself, and sometimes you did want someone else to speak for you, so perhaps everything would be fine.  For now, you thanked her, and wished her well, and, needing something—comfort? validation? a fucking therapist?—you decided to text your friend in New York who was probably still up despite the late hour back home.

            “I need someone to tell me I’m not crazy,” you said, and you smiled when a text came back quickly.

            “Then ask someone else, because you’re definitely crazy.”

            “Ha ha.”

            “Why, what’s up?”

            “I had one of my attacks yesterday. Some guy touched me, and I just freaked out.”

            “Did you call the cops? Who was it? Should I beat him up?”  You couldn’t help but smile.  Your friend knew all about your past and was always ready to jump on a plane and fly anywhere to protect you.

            “No, no, haha, this may sound weird, but I wanted him to?  And I still panicked? So I’m just mad and confused.”

            “Oh, babe, what did he say about it?”

            “Nothing, he kind of ran off.”

            “What?!  The bastard.”

            “No, no, I don’t blame him.”

            “No, he’s an ass.”

            “No, I mean, I hear you. It sounds bad.  But I think,” you paused for a moment to do just that, wondering if you were right, “he blamed himself and got scared? Or was mad at himself?”

            “Do you think he feels like it’s his fault?  And you know it’s not?  So you’re telling yourself it’s your fault even though it isn’t, aren’t you?”

            “Maybe…”

            “Babe, you can’t help it.  But you can work on it.  Do you like this guy?”  You paused, reading your friend’s text.  What a simple word.  You liked pizza.  You liked your dog.  You liked walks.  No, you loved pizza.  You loved your dog.  You loved walks.  Of course you liked Yoongi.  But you knew what your friend was really asking, so you chose your words carefully.

            “He’s someone I’d like in my life, yes.”

            “Pft, that is such a you answer.  Talk to him, then.  You know you’ll feel better.”

            “I know,” you texted back, feeling like at least one of the weights resting on your shoulders had been removed.  “How are you?”

            “Trying to find a new job and avoiding my roommate, so all good.  Found a $20 bill on the subway today, so it’s been great.”

            “Ha!  Good luck.  I love you.  Thanks for putting up with me.  I hope you sleep soon!”

            “Anytime, babe.  Keep me updated, k?”

            “K,” you sent back before shutting off your phone.

            Just talk to him.  You’ll feel better. 

            But you weren’t ready to feel better yet.

 

            You decided to fuck it.  You packed a bag and texted Jisung.

            He showed up with his grin, his car, a small camera, and a duffle bag.

            You left Mina a note and told Hae and Mi-Hi you’d be back soon.

            By the time Mina got home, carrying flowers from Jimin, it was already dark, and you were already in another place, thinking of other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daegu distractions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 30**

            Sometimes, no matter where you were, you feel like you were at home.  And sometimes, no matter where you were, you always felt lonely.  Jisung was the perfect traveling companion.  He said little, so complained less, was always up for eating anything at anytime, had the stamina to keep up with you while sightseeing, gave you a piggyback ride when your legs gave out on a steep hill, took amazing pictures of you that you swear were of someone else because you never recognized yourself, smiled and laughed at your jokes and your expressive face, never let you give into panicking when you thought you were lost, his hand always guiding your elbow to a corner to recuperate in or reorient yourself in, and made you feel safe.  And yet you felt lonely that first day outside of Seoul, as if something was missing or distant.

            You planned to pack your days in Daegu and Busan full to distract your mind and exhaust your body so that sleep could come easily.  But after trying to do just that your first day in Daegu, as you laid in bed drowning in hotel comforters, you couldn’t sleep, because Daegu evidently made you think of Tae and Yoongi, and while you had ignored your phone all day—which was hard to do, because you hated having notifications and just wanted to open each message so they would go away—you rolled over now, and, partially under the covers, let the screen’s light practically blind you.

            Texts from Mina from yesterday: “The boys would like to see you before you go.  But they understand if you don’t want to.  Could you come by the studio?  Y/N?  Well, I’ll be home soon.”

            And from Mina today: “Enjoy Daegu today.  Be safe.”  You wondered if she was mad and if Jisung had told her before or after you had left what the plan was.  You felt more and more gratitude toward Jisung.  That guy showed exceptional loyalty to you out of nowhere that you definitely didn’t deserve.

            The texts from Namjoon yesterday read: “You know it’s all going to be alright, right?  But you’d tell me if it wasn’t?  Please come home.  Yoongi’s sleeping in his studio.  Jin will make you dinner.”

            And from Namjoon today: “There’s this great bookstore in Busan.  I’ll send you the details.  While you’re there, could you look for a book for me?”

            A text from Tae from yesterday: “Are you okay?”

            And a text from Tae today: “Are you okay?”  Sighing, you decided to start with Tae, and sent him a quick text.

            “ _Yes, thank you.  Are you okay?  Please sleep._ ”  Next, you responded to Namjoon.

            “Of course I’ll look for the book.  Send the details.  And thanks, as always, Namjoon.  Like I said, you’re a good friend.  Is Yoongi okay?”  And you were thinking of what to say to Mina when Namjoon replied,

            “You’ll have to ask him.”

            Just talk to him.  You’ll feel better.  Groaning, you buried your head in your pillow and let out a light scream, your head shaking back and forth.  While you were debating on whether to chuck your phone across the room to avoid every having to deal with talking to anyone ever again or not, it buzzed again, and you jumped slightly, rolling your eyes at yourself.

            “Y/N!” Tae said.  “I need you to sleep.”  You couldn’t help but smile because what he said could mean he wanted you with him or he wanted you to go to sleep yourself.

            “Ya, go bother Jimin or Jungkook,” you sent back.  And you found yourself staring at your screen, the light making your eyes watering, waiting to see what he would send back.  In a moment you couldn’t help but laugh as a picture of him trying to cuddle Jungkook, who was clearly elbowing him to keep him away, appeared. 

            “Jungkook hates me.”  Seizing the opportunity, you sent Jungkook a text.

            “ _Love Tae._ ”  He didn’t respond, but Tae didn’t either, so you figured you would leave them alone to work it out.  Not feeling very optimistic, you sent another text to Namjoon anyway to see if you could get him to tell you anything else.

            “Namjoon, are you okay?  I don’t want you to be mad at me.  I don’t think I could handle that.”

            “I’m not mad, not at all.  Honest.  Now, if you don’t get me that book…”

            “I’m being serious,” you sent, frowning at your phone.

            “Come back when you can, okay?  We all miss you.”  There was something so gentle and endearing in those words that you blamed the searing light of your phone screen for the liquid forming in your eyes.  There was something about being missed; it implied you were cared for and wanted; and fuck, Jin was so right.  You wanted to never go back, because going back meant spending more time and getting closer and thus making going home at the end of the summer all the harder.  You weren’t a “live in the moment” person.  You couldn’t “yolo it up.”  You thought and over thought of what would come after, what the consequences would be, and you only saw hurt and tears, and fuck that.

            But also, you wanted that.  You wanted to bother Jungkook and cook with Jin, dance with Jimin and laugh with J-Hope, sleep next to Tae and read books with Namjoon, and sit with Yoongi in his studio.  Shit, you wanted all of that.  So you hated this, you hated the way you hated yourself, how you beat yourself up over things you couldn’t control, how you blamed yourself when you had done nothing wrong.  This wasn’t the way you wanted to spend your life.  This wasn’t the way you wanted to spend the summer.  Or even one more day.

            So you would finish your little vacation within a vacation, and then you would go back to the boys, for the boys, and for yourself.  But before you went to sleep you had one more text to send, so you opened up your conversation with Yoongi.

            “When I said you should go home, I meant go home.  _Sleep at home._ Not your studio couch.  That thing is uncomfortable.  _Go home._ ”  It was almost unnerving how quickly he responded, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing.

            “ _Stop telling me what to do._ ”

            “ _Never,_ ” you sent back, and you finally put your head back down on your pillow, ready to settle in for the night.  But your brain and your body didn’t always communicate or corporate, so you found yourself sending another text.  “Hey Yoongi?”

            “ _Yeah_?”

            “I miss you.”  And you’re pretty sure you didn’t sleep a wink that night, you just imagined all of the reasons why you shouldn’t have said that and imagined all of the things he might say back, even though the rest of the night your phone was silent, which made you wonder even more if you had made a terrible mistake, and your brain raged, and your heart raced, and your body ached.

            Someone will get hurt.

            It was going to be you.

            There were bound to be consequences.

            But you would have to deal with them later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys share their opinion of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> A long awaited from-the-boys’-perspective chapter. But it’s so short. Ugh, I promise I’m not getting lazy, haha.

**Day 31**

           Yoongi stumbled home early the next morning and shut the door quietly before shuffling to his room.  He stood in his doorway, noting the absence of Tae, and a frown formed on his face while he pulled out his phone.  But the door to your room, right next to theirs, was open, and he found himself peeking in, only to see Tae on your bed, curled up and holding onto a pillow.  Yoongi stepped in quietly and stood over him before squatting down to lean his hands on the bed and his chin on his hands.

           “Tae,” he said, even though he knew it wouldn’t wake him.  And he wanted to wake him.  To shake him.  But he wouldn’t.  He couldn’t.  With a sigh, Yoongi went alone to his own room.

 

           And Jimin looked over every time J-Hope moved in his sleep, afraid the scratching of his pen was waking him up.  Or perhaps it was the light of his phone piercing their dark room.  Whatever it was, he couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t seem to write what he wanted.  He felt like nothing would be good enough.  How could he convince you to come back?  To come home?  To believe you were welcomed and wanted?  He tried to think back on how the boys had managed to convince him, but if he was honest with himself, he still, deep down, sometimes doubted.  And he had had years with his brothers to grow strong from their encouragement.  You had had thirty-one days.  Your time was more than half over with them.  How could he convince you in twenty-three days that you were loved?

 

           And Tae woke up in your bed that still smelled of you—a soft scent of lavender—and he looked around the room, and in the bathroom, and in the living room for you.  He sent you another text asking if you were okay.  He looked at the pictures he had taken of you at the park in the rain.  He hoped you were smiling like you were then.  He wanted to make you laugh, to hear your infectious laugh and roar alongside you.  He wanted to hold you and comfort you, protect you and keep you.

           “Aish,” he muttered, ruffling his messy hair.  He felt like Alice, falling, falling, falling.  He wondered when he would land, and where he would be when he did.

 

           And Jin thought of what Namjoon had told him one night when Yoongi casually asked him over a cup of coffee what he thought of you, and he lied so well he almost believed himself, but all he needed was for Yoongi to believe him, and he did.

           “ _I think she’s patient and helpful, and a pretty good cook._ ”

           “ _Yeah, but do you like her, hyung_?” 

           “ _No, why_?”

           “ _Just wondering._ ”

           And Jin turned his back to resume making breakfast, hoping that Yoongi was too engrossed in his own thoughts and his coffee to see the tips of Jin’s ears turning red.  Yoongi was.

 

           And Namjoon fussed at Jimin at practice and immediately cursed at himself and pulled the boy in for a hug, apologizing profusely.

           “ _I just need you to sleep, Jimin.  I, we, need you._   _We can’t let ourselves be distracted._ ”  He said it as the leader, but not necessarily as Namjoon.  He understood the value of distraction.  He welcomed distractions.  He loved distractions.  They helped him to relax, even if temporarily.  And after such moments, he would be refueled to come back stronger the next day.  You were a distraction.  But distractions were good.  Distractions were necessary.  Distractions were needed.  He remembered a quote from a famous philosopher: “The only thing that consoles us from our miseries is diversion.”  Diversion, distraction.  He could distract himself from a distraction.  So he would focus at work, throw himself into work, into his team, and think about you later.

 

           And J-Hope watched his brothers and did his best to be everything for everyone at once.  He noticed Jimin’s tired eyes and gave him extra rubs on his back between songs.  He noticed Tae keeping a mask on his face whenever he wasn’t expected to talk and made extra sure everyone was quiet to hear him when he did.  He noticed Jin’s overexaggerated happy attitude that was so fake it broke J-Hope’s heart a bit, so he laughed at every stupid joke Jin told.  He noticed Jungkook’s look of determination and hyper focus, and he complimented him and gave him a hearty pat on the back when practice was over.  He noticed the way Yoongi’s whole demeanor changed when they came in to work, and he made sure to promise to show up at his studio later when Yoongi asked him to come listen to a song.  He noticed the way Namjoon was doing his best for the others, but J-Hope led the boys most of the time with the upmost respect toward his leader, and J-Hope knew that Namjoon was grateful, even if he would never say it.  And he caught himself stealing glances at Mina whenever she was in the room, waiting for her to update them on how you were, but Mina said nothing all day to him, just took notes and answered questions and scheduled events.  Professional as always.  And J-Hope did the best he could, but he couldn’t be everything for himself.

 

           And Jungkook that night, after an exhausting day and a warm shower, sat at his computer editing footage.  And his smile came from happiness and then awe, from admiration to surprise, from confusion to sadness.  And his brow furrowed as he scanned the footage of you in the field and crossing the bridge and sitting on the side of the street.  And he noticed your face for the first time, how your smile hid a sadness your eyes couldn’t, and how your eyes held a longing your face couldn’t hide, and he sat back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair.  He wanted to know what would make you laugh like you did when you were bowling; loudly, unafraid, with no fear of being judged or rebuked.  That was the you he wanted to see.  That was the you he wanted to capture. 

           So he called in Tae, and Jimin, and Jin, and the vocal line made a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author got lazy and wrote a terrible chapter that doesn’t even count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> In my defense, Y/N just needed a break, I'm not actually lazy. I wrote an average of 16 pages/4 hours a day when I wrote this thing. Not lazy.

**Day 32**

            Some days pass in a haze.  Back home, it tended to happen on days when you were so depressed nothing seemed to matter.  Which was most days.  You always managed to find something to keep you going, some task that needed done, something to check off a list so you could feel accomplish, but at the end of the day you still went to bed with a sinking feeling that you were alone and that nothing you did mattered.  Of course you knew that wasn’t true.  But on those days when you felt most down, you walked through a fog and wondered at the end of the day how you had made it.  You had passed less days in your life in a haze from happiness.  That feeling like you’re floating, so your head is too high in the sky to remember what’s happening.  Those days were few and far between.  You could probably count how many you had had in the past year on two hands, maybe even one.  So when you woke up in Busan, a grin on your face, you couldn’t even pinpoint what it was that you were so happy about.

            The time away was helping, you knew that much.  You loved exploring and having adventures, so you enjoyed sightseeing.  Jisung was fun and accommodating, and you felt no sense of pressure around him.  And you were ready to go back home to the boys, but you also wanted to finish your mini vacation, so you were going to finish for yourself.

            You remember stopping at the bookstore to pick up the book Namjoon had requested.  Apparently he had called ahead to have them hold it, so the owner was very excited to hand it off to you.  You didn’t really take the time to bother translating the title, but the store was so tiny and orderly, and the man was so kind homely, the way a bookstore owner should be, that you spent a while browsing the shelves with Jisung following behind you.  And even though you lived near a beach back home, it was nothing like Busan’s, so you couldn’t help spending the evening watching the sunset behind the ocean while you sat with Jisung on the sand.

            But apart from that, you don’t remember much from that day.  Just that you were happy.  And that was something you wanted to remember forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not lazy.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You return to the BTS’ dorm, but things are a little awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 33**

           You were pretty sure Jisung thought you were insane.  If he didn’t think that before, he certainly had to after spending five days with you.  You were honestly impressed with yourself with how much your Korean had improved in just five days, but being around Jisung helped, because even if he didn’t have much to say to you, by the second day you discovered you wanted to talk to him, and not just talk at him, so you did your best to make sure he could understand you.  Even though you were older than him—you finally found out he was twenty-seven, and you felt so accomplished getting that information out of him—you acted more and more like a kid the more you spent with him.  You figured part of it was how much bigger he was than you, but you also knew you were just relaxing, and a large part of you just liked to laugh and have fun.  So you shoveled in your food as much as he did, which always earned you a smile.  And you laughed loudly walking down the street, which always made him smile.  And you gave him back hugs whenever you were in public because you knew it made him embarrassed, but it also made him smile.  And you sang and danced as loudly as you could every time you got in the car, and that was what you were doing this afternoon as Jisung drove you back to Seoul.

           You were ready.  You felt confident.  Just talk to him.  You’ll feel better.  Everything was going to be great.  When you were about an hour away from Seoul, you decided to call Mina to let her know you were headed back.  It wasn’t like you to procrastinate or show up unexpected to places, but it had slipped your mind.  A part of you was expecting them to be waiting around for you, ready to welcome you back at any moment.  That was unrealistic, you knew, so you needed to let Mina know.

           “Mina!  _Hi!_ ” you said cheerfully when she picked up.  You could hear her hesitate for a moment—perhaps she was checking the ID to double check who was calling her—before she answered.

           “Y/N, hi.  Is everything okay?”

           “Oh, _yes,_ Jisung and I are headed back.”

           “Oh?  Oh, good.  Do you know when you’ll arrive?”

           “Um, Jisung says about an hour.  Where should I go?”  you heard someone in the background asking if it was you followed by some other voices.  “Mina?  Are you with J-Hope?”

           “What?  Yes.  I’m with the boys.”

           “Not what I asked, but okay, fair enough.”

           “Yes, well,” Mina said, and you could just picture her face trying to stay as professional as possible while she swatted the boys away from her phone.  “The boys are filming for a show in about an hour, so you could come to the station or head to the dorm.”

           “Oh, can I come watch?”

           “Yes, yes, I’ll make sure there’s a pass for you.  I’ll send Jisung the details.”

           “Y/N!  Y/N!” you heard someone in the background—Tae.

           “We’ll see you then,” Mina said, her voice straining slightly before she hung up.

 

           Mina was true to her word, so when you arrived later at the station Jisung and you were let in and shown to the greenroom where Mina and some of the other staff were watching the boys on the TVs.  You didn’t even wait for a greeting or permission before you wrapped Mina up in a hug—your first hug, you realized! How unacceptable! You were going to hug her all the time from now on!—and gave small bows to everyone else in the room.

           “How was your trip?” Mina said when you let her go; thankfully her arms had come up to wrap around you, too, if only briefly.

           “Good.  _Great!_   You might want to ask Jisung, though.  I may have broken him.”  As if on cue, Jisung sat down on one of the couches and closed his eyes.  Mina couldn’t help but smile.  “Hey Mina, I am sorry about leaving like I did.”

           “It’s okay,” Mina said, waving the problem away with her hand, and that was that.  She really meant it, so you breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at the monitors with her to see the boys performing.  You forgot for a moment that you had met and talked to and touched all of them.  For a moment you were just watching BTS sing and dance one of their songs and answer questions about their upcoming concert.  For a moment you forgot where you were.  But you couldn’t forget the feeling of admiration and pride you felt swelling within you.  It was silly; you had no right to feel that, and you shook your head to get rid of the thought.  You found that as you watched the boys wrapping up with the hosts that all your confidence on the drive up was rapidly dissipating, and you kept twirling your bracelet and stretching your fingers, and you found yourself standing near a corner behind the rest of the staff, trying not to be in the way by the time the boys came back in the room.  You assumed Mina had told them you were coming, but you suddenly felt like an intruder who didn’t belong, but when you looked around the room there really wasn’t any way out, so you were stuck there standing awkwardly, rubbing your hands down your thighs and biting the inside of your cheeks. 

           Namjoon noticed you first.  You immediately relaxed under his reassuring smile when you made eye contact with him.  But it was Tae and Jimin who practically tackled you as they wrapped their arms around you for a group hug.  When you wiggled your head out from under their arms, gasping dramatically for breath, you saw Jungkook and J-Hope crowding around you, greeting you and sending you smiles.  And out of the corner of your eye you saw Jin standing by Namjoon with a look on his face.  You didn’t see Yoongi.

           “Y/N, Y/N, _did you see my family_?” Jimin was saying.

           “ _Isn’t Daegu better than Busan_?” Tae asked.

           “ _Ya, I bet she liked Busan better.  Didn’t you_?”  You couldn’t help but laugh as you gave them both a pat on the back, signaling that they should let you out of their hug now.

           “ _I liked them both,_ ” you said, ending the fight before it could start.  “ _And one day I’d love to meet your families._ ”

           “ _Y/N, your Korean’s gotten better!_ ” J-Hope said, flashing you a smile.

           “ _Thank you, it was the Daegu air and the Busan sea.  Plus Jisung,_ ” you said smiling.

           “ _Aahhh, Jisung, Jisung,_ ” J-Hope said, going over to sit by him on the couch and fling an arm around his shoulders.  You weaseled past the younger boys who were continuing their dispute about Daegu and Busan so you could go say hi to Namjoon and Jin.  Namjoon was busy talking to one of the staff, but Jin pulled you in for a side hug, your head fitting perfectly under his chin.

           “Hey Jin,” you said, poking his stomach as he held you, “I asked you not to look at me like that.”

           “ _Oh, you’re right, you’re right.  But so was I, wasn’t I?_ ”

           “ _Yes,_ ” you said softly, both you of addressing what had happened without fully acknowledging it.  “I just didn’t think it would be so soon.  _Where’s Yoongi_?”  Jin dropped his arm from your shoulders and looked around as if he had just noticed Yoongi wasn’t around.

           “ _Namjoon, where’s Yoongi?_ ” Jin pulled on Namjoon’s sleeve to get his attention, and Namjoon turned around to give you another smile and look at Jin knowingly.

           “ _He already took off.  Said he wanted to finish that song._ ”

           “ _Uh huh, sure.  He’s the worst at lying._ ”

           “ _He really is,_ ” Namjoon said, and you tried not to show that you understood them, sighing a little in disappointment.  Just talk to him.  You’ll feel better.  But you couldn’t talk to him if he wasn’t around.

           “So, _do you have more work now_?” you said, and Jin nodded at you, impressed with your pronunciation.

           “J-Hope and I need to go to the studio, I know,” Namjoon said.

           “ _Jimin and I have some dance practicing to do,_ ” Jin said.

           “ _Jungkook, Tae, what are you doing now?_ ” Namjoon called over to the boys on the other side of the room.

           “ _Getting changed,_ ” Jungkook said.

           “ _After this,_ ” Namjoon clarified.

           “ _Oh, going to my studio, why_?” the youngest said, and Tae raised his hand.

           “ _Me too._   _Y/N, you should come,_ ” Tae said, but Jungkook elbowed him in his side.

           “ _No, it’s not ready yet._ ”

           “ _It’s okay,_ ” you said, stopping the minor disagreement, “if it’s alright, I’d like to go to the dorm and unpack and do some work.”  Namjoon nodded and gave you two thumbs-up before turning back to the staff member he had been talking to.  Signaling to Jisung, you gave the boys a wave and everyone else a bow before you headed out.

 

           For the third time you found yourself entering the BTS dorm for what felt like the first time.  Nothing had changed, you knew it.  But it still felt like you were walking through an invisible barrier that made it harder to breathe when you stepped across the threshold.  Your bag hung loosely in your hand, and you found the door to your room open, but nothing looked disturbed upon your first inspection.  After you unpacked, you found a note on your desk that must have been from Jimin: _Thank you for teaching us._ And your bed seemed to have grown two extra pillows, but you loved pillows, so you weren’t going to complain about that even though you did wonder who had been in it.  Going to pour yourself a glass of water, you stood in the kitchen leaning against the island staring at the couch in the living room.

           It was just a couch.  Nothing had happened.

           Still, you felt your legs dragging a bit more than you would like as you walked into the living room.  But you managed to turn the TV and DVD player on to find the same DVD from before still in.  So you sat, and then laid down, and then clung to a pillow and watched the movie through half-opened eyes, your body wanting to drift off, but instead being stuck in an almost paralyzed state, your limbs all numb and tingly but unable to really move.  So you were still lying there even after the movie had ended and the door opened, and someone came in, his steps faltering slightly before coming closer to you, and after a few steps you saw Namjoon’s tall frame.  He leaned in to see if you were awake, and when he saw your eyes open he gave you a full smile with his eyes closed before squatting down beside you.

           “Are you okay?”  You groaned softly at his question and flickered your eyes but smiled lazily at him.

           “Oh, yeah, just don’t feel like moving right now.”

           “I get that.”

           “How’d the song writing go?”

           “Good,” Namjoon said, smiling again, “Yoongi’s written a good one.”

           “I don’t doubt it,” you said softly, taking a deep breath.  “Where is everyone else?”

           “Still working, I’m sure.  But I wanted to come home,” he said and paused for a second too long, “to check on you.”

           “I’m a real handful, aren’t I?” you had meant to say jokingly, but you sounded too pathetic and closed your eyes, not wanting to look at Namjoon.

           “No at all.  I deal with Jin and Jimin all day, so you’re nothing compared to them,” you heard Namjoon say, and you opened your eyes, wanting to make sure he was joking.  The smile on his lips told you he was, so you smiled lightly back.

           “You’re too nice to me.”

           “Look,” Namjoon said, sitting down and pressing his legs against the couch, “that’s the best complaint I’ve ever heard.  What else are we doing wrong?”  You scrunched your face at him, but his dimples were on full display, so you stuck your tongue out at him.

           “You keep letting a crazy woman back into your house.”

           “Well, we are a bunch of guys.  What’d you expect?”

           “And you make me run errands for you,” you said, your lip sticking out in full pout mode.

           “Oh, did you get my book?” Namjoon said, his face perking up.

           “Yes,” you said, unable to stop a laughing leaving your tired frame.  “It’s on my desk.”  You swear Namjoon looked like a little kid on Christmas as he scrambled up and bumped into the side of the couch with a groan before shuffling down the hallway.  When he returned he plopped down on the couch by your head.

           “Ah, thank you so much, Y/N.”

           “No problem,” you said, laughing at how excited he looked.

           “ _What?_ What?” he was frowning down at you.

           “You just looked really cute,” you said, and Namjoon’s frown disappeared, but he didn’t smile, either.  In fact, his whole face seemed to twitch, and even his hands, holding his book in front of his face, seemed to waver.  Willing your body to move—it felt like moving through quicksand, and your head was making the whole room spin—you propped yourself up on your elbow so you could turn slightly to look at him.   “Is it okay that I said that?” you said, watching his face carefully.  “I just want to be more honest with you and the other boys from now on.  Which I realize may get me into trouble, but not being totally honest with you has also seemed to get me in trouble.”

           “You’ve been lying to us?”  Namjoon’s face was a mixture of curiosity and concern, but not disapproval or judgement.

           “No, well, not intentionally.  Not that I know of?” you said, biting your lip.  “I haven’t been totally open with you all, probably.  I’m usually very reserved, and I am always afraid of people judging me, so I tend to not share things,” and you were rambling, so thankfully Namjoon cut you off with one of his small, reassuring smiles.

           “Open and honest aren’t the same thing, Y/N.  So I do have one complaint about you.”

           “Oh?” you said, turning all the way over so you were on your stomach and propped up on both of your elbows.  You waited for the blow to come.  He didn’t like you freaking out on them.  Or not learning Korean fast enough.  Or not teaching enough English.  Or leaving the dorm so many times.  Or breaking too many of the rules.  Or spending more time with Tae than with him.  Or, oh god, getting him the wrong book?

           “You’re too hard on yourself,” Namjoon said gently, and your heart skipped a beat because of course you were.  “We can all tell,” he said, staring off at nothing and looking too philosophical for you to not smile at.

           “You ever think that when we spot flaws in people easily it’s because we have the same problem?”  You weren’t trying to accuse Namjoon of anything or say that he did have the same problem you did; the question was valid, and your eyes flickered over every feature of his face as he stared at you.

           “I think…yes.  Or if we’ve had the same problem in the past and have gotten through it, we’re quick to point it out or give others advice when we see it.  But that’s one of the dangers of giving advice.  It’s like we’re telling them ‘I did this, but I shouldn’t have, so you shouldn’t either.’”

           “That’s almost like tu quoque.  The logical fallacy.  Or in normal lingo people might call that having double standards,” you said.  Namjoon hummed, looking off again to think.  “But I still think there is value in pointing out a person’s problem even if it’s one you still struggle with.  As long as it’s done with the intent to help that person.  Which of course could come across as just criticism.  And gah, people are complicated,” you said, burying your face into the couch.  You thought you heard Namjoon chuckle, but then it was quiet for a few moments, the only sound that of his pages being turned.  Feeling like you weren’t getting enough air, you rolled over again onto your back and found that the top of your head ran into the side of Namjoon’s leg.  As you looked up at the ceiling, you could feel him stiffen, and the time it took for him to turn a page decreased.

           “Namjoon?” you said after a few minutes, and he hummed in response.  “You know, you’re not going to break me.”  He blinked down at you once, twice, ten times.  “What happened with Yoongi doesn’t always happen.  Or even usually.  Honestly.  I don’t know why it did,” you said as you saw his mouth open, “but I promise I’m okay.  I’m not as fragile as I seem, really.  You won’t break me.”  He blinked at you once, twice, five times, and a little smile appeared on his face.  Slowly, you brought your left arm above your head and placed it on Namjoon’s arm, your fingers toying with the edge of his shirt.

           “I know I’m not supposed to do this,” you said.

           “What?” Namjoon said, trying not to lick his lips or swallow.

           “Initiate physical contact,” you said, your voice sounding like a robot.

           “Oh, yeah,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse.  But he didn’t move your arm or tell you to stop, so you looked up at him and smiled softly.  He blinked once, twice, three times before bringing his arm down on top of yours, his elbow on your hand and his hand on your elbow.  Your fingers curled around his elbow, and his fingers barely spread out over yours, causing you to giggle slightly at the sensation.  But he did it again with more pressure, and you let out a little hum.  His fingers stilled, and he looked down at you.

           “ _Sorry,_ ” you said, biting your lip, but Namjoon shook his head and did it again, a grin spreading across your face.  You closed your eyes and pressed your head a little harder against his leg and wrapped two of your fingers into the bottom of his shirt as he continued to draw meaningless patterns over your elbow, content enough to relax again.  And for a while everything was quiet apart from your mingled breathing and the pages of his book turning slowly.

           But quiet was rare in the BTS dorm, and soon a gaggle of boys came crashing in, and Namjoon’s arm flew away from yours, and your eyes opened wearily to see who it was.  Everyone but Yoongi and J-Hope was home and loudly announcing their presence as if they knew someone would get scared easily if snuck up on, so they wanted to not scare them by making as much noise as possible.  Or they were just loud because they could be.  Your Korean may have improved, but it was just a jumble of noises as the boys entered.

           “Y/N!” Jin said, pushing past Jimin and running dramatically to your side, kneeling down beside the couch, “ _save me._ ”

           “ _What?  What?_ ” you said, laughing and sitting up.

           “ _Jimin is so mean to me,_ ” he said, pouting, and even though Jimin was laughing, he denied it behind him.

           “Aw, will you feel better, _if I cook will you feel better_?”  Jin’s face lit up and he nodded eagerly.  “Okay, _go shower so you can help me cook._ ”  Namjoon put his hand to his mouth, trying to hold in a laugh, but Jin smacked his leg and he let it out.

           “ _Ya, that’s not helpful._ ”  But he complied, and soon the two of you were cooking dinner while the rest of the boys got in the way, and Jin and yours playful frustration with the others seemed so natural, and the way you and Jin moved around each other, handing each other ingredients or stirring each other’s pans when the other person turned away without needing to be asked was so natural, and you couldn’t help but press yourself into Jin’s back at one point and wrap your arms around him.  He stiffened for a moment, but when he said,

           “ _Ya, Y/N, you could get burnt,_ ” you only held on tighter and took awkward steps behind him as he moved to the island then back to the stove and only let go when he was trying to stir your pot, too, so you decided to actually help finish cooking dinner.  He thankfully didn’t give you any look, and you saw him smile out of the corner of your eye, and you gladly let him make you a plate of food before everyone else, trying not to smirk when he even smacked Jungkook’s hand away when he tried to eat before you.

           And at dinner Tae sat next to you, his leg constantly touching yours, and there was no way you were going to play footsy—legsy?—with Tae at the dinner table, so you kept sucking in your breath and giving him glares, but that only seemed to egg him on further, so you finally gave up and the next time his leg bumped into yours you grabbed his knee and glared at him.

           “Stop,” you said firmly, but when he looked at you and his mouth twitched, yours did too, and soon you let go and looked away, trying to hold in a laugh.  “Shit,” you muttered as you laughed through your nose.  When Jin eyed you, you immediately apologized and refused to look at Tae again to give him the satisfaction of winning whatever contest you had unknowingly and unwillingly entered.  But after dinner he whisked you away to your room because he wanted to practice his English, and his proud smiles and concentrated faces made you remember why you had missed him so much.  And he stayed with you until it was time to get ready for bed, but when he had finished he came back, standing at your door so eagerly and practically bouncing over and onto your bed.

           “Tae,” you said slowly as you turned around to face him, making sure not to shut the door, “while I was gone, _did you sleep in my bed_?”

           “ _Maybe.  Yes,_ ” he said, raising one eyebrow.

           “ _Why_?” you said, climbing on top of your covers to sit cross legged in across from him.

           “ _So it wouldn’t miss you.  Everyone else was, so I didn’t want your bed to get sad._ ”

           “Ah,” you said, and ducked your head as you ran your fingers through your damp hair, wondering how your heart managed to feel nauseous and wanting it to stop.

           “Are you okay?” Tae asked, and the way his voice lowered made you roll your shoulders back and move your head back and forth before you were confident enough to look at him again.

           “ _Yes,_ ” you said, nodding for good measure.  And the bed shifted as Tae scooted himself closer to you until your knees were touching, and he put his hands on both of your knees and moved his thumbs back and forth on them.  “Tae?” you said, watching his eyes as they watched yours.  He hummed inquisitively.  “ _You said ‘be careful,_ ’ about Yoongi.  _Why?_ Why did you say to be careful that day?”  Part of you, a tiny, meniscal part of you wondered if Tae had meant you weren’t safe with Yoongi, like he knew something you didn’t, but there was no way you ever wanted to believe that; you told yourself that was just your own fears speaking, so you didn’t listen to that voice.  But you were still curious, and while it may not be polite or right—just talk to him, you’ll feel better—you wanted to gather as much information as you could.  Tae’s thumbs still swept back and forth on your skin, but he looked up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at you.

           “ _Ah,_ ” he said slowly, “ _I really care about Yoongi._ ”

           “ _Right,_ ” you nodded, following along so far.

           “ _Even though we’re very different, almost opposites, we get along very well._ ”  You nodded again, still with him.  “ _But we have a few things in common.  And one is how we act when we care about someone._ When we care for a person, we give all.  We do everything.  _We want the best for that person and will do everything possible to make sure they’re happy and safe._ ”  You nodded again slowly, understanding.  So had Yoongi meant the same thing when he had told you to be careful with Tae?  “Be careful.  _If Yoongi cares for you._ ”  It was the beginning of a sentence; an incomplete sentence.  If Yoongi cared for you, what?

           “It sounds like a threat,” you said, and Tae cocked his head.  “Uh, threat,” you said again, pulling out your translation app.

           “Ah, no,” Tae said, waving his hand at you when he understood the word.  “ _No, not a threat._ I’m sorry, _I don’t always make sense._ ”  But you put your hands on his and gave them a light squeeze in an attempt to thank and to reassure him.

           “ _Thank you_ for explaining,” you said, trying to stifle a yawn unsuccessfully.

           “You should sleep,” Tae said, moving his hands away from your knees.  Fully in agreement, you moved to get under your covers while Tae moved to get off of your bed.  But as he did, you twisted your lips, trying to decide what to do.  It may get you in trouble, but you should be more open and honest.

           “ _Do you want to stay_?” you said, looking up at him standing next to your bed.  He bit his lip and looked away briefly before nodding, and you smiled, but then put your hand up before he could move.  “Okay, but”—Tae knew this word, so he stopped, and you started to get embarrassed and nervous, but just be open and honest and see what happens—“it’s against the rules, _rule breaking,_ ”—Tae pressed his lips together, wondering what rule you, or he, was breaking or going to break—“but,” you laughed in your anxiousness at what you were about to say, but you looked him in the eye and stuck a finger out at him, “I don’t want to wear my bra.  _I don’t want to wear_ ,” and you clicked your tongue, not knowing the word in Korean.  Tae’s eyes narrowed for a minute as if was processing what you said or at least pretending to process what you said.

           “Okay,” he said slowly.

           “Okay,” you said, your voice too high pitched, “turn around,” you indicated with your finger, spinning it in a circle, so Tae turned around, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth, which only made the situation seem more ridiculous to you as you unclasped your bra and wiggled out of it, sticking it in the bedstand drawer because you didn’t know what else to do with it at the moment.  Once you had slid under the covers you said, “Okay,” again, and Tae turned around, looking down at you as if he expected you to look different.  But you were just you, smiling up at him, so he climbed under the covers, and you rolled onto your side, and Tae turned onto his, and you closed your eyes, but when you could feel that Tae wasn’t closing the gap between you, you opened them again and slightly rolled over, turning your head so you could look at him.

           “ _What’s wrong_?” you whispered.

           “ _Huh?  Oh, nothing,_ ” he mumbled.  You narrowed your eyes at him, but you were afraid in the dark he couldn’t see you.

           “ _Okay, I believe you,_ ” you said, and turned back over, curling into a little ball and holding a pillow tight in front of you.  The bed shifted slightly as Tae finally moved closer to you, his nose pressing into the back of your neck.

           “ _Are you sure it’s okay?_ ” he whispered, his breath, as always, managing to make you shiver.

           “ _Yes,_ ” you said, and you felt one of his hands lay flat on your back.  He held it there for a second before he moved his fingers, scratching you slightly.  When you didn’t flinch or move away, his hand moved up and scratched again, and you found yourself curling even tighter, letting out a quiet hum.  Tae’s nose pressed harder into the back of your neck, and you felt one of his legs draping over yours and intertwining itself in-between them.  His hand stilled again and then disappeared for a moment, and you took the opportunity to press your back completely against his chest.  He let out a tiny grunt before his hand rested on your thigh.

           “Y/N,” Tae mumbled, his voice deep and drowsy.  You hummed in response, and Tae laughed against your neck before wrapping his arm around you and your pillow, pulling you as close to him as you could be.

           Before you drifted off to sleep, one nagging thought passed through your head: Be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jungkook has a surprise for you, and you finally talk to Yoongi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words. Mention of rape (be careful, friends). Some touchy touchy.

**Day 34**

            You remember when it had happened you had gotten up the next day and gone to work like nothing had happened.  And you did that for two years before acknowledging that yes, you had actually been raped, and maybe you needed to work through that instead of pretending like it never happened.  You remember when you told your mom and then went to work as if it was just another normal day.  And you remember texting your friend about it while you were at work one day, explaining everything that happened those two years ago and then just going to your next class to teach as if it was just a normal, every day conversation.  In short, you really hadn’t handled it the right way all those years ago, and that work, while a helpful and useful distraction at times, had been your blindfold too many times, allowing you to have an excuse for why you weren’t dealing with what you were feeling.  And when you woke up and realized it had been a week since you had really seen and talked to Yoongi, your heart sunk.  Slipping out of Tae’s arm, ignoring the groan he made, you carried your pillow down the hall and peeked into Tae and Yoongi’s room, but both beds were empty.  No one was on the couch, either, and you suddenly felt annoyed.

            “Whatever,” you said to yourself, “he better be sleeping.”

 

            When you saw him later for the first time that day, you could tell that he hadn’t been sleeping.  He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and part of you felt angry, but you checked yourself, not thinking so highly of yourself to believe that you could actually be the cause of Min Yoongi losing sleep.  Still, it was as if the universe knew you wanted to talk to him and that talking to him was the only thing that was going to make you feel better and decided to do everything in its power to prevent you from doing so.

            First, when you had woken up for the second time it was because Mina had called you to ask if you would be up for giving an English lesson today.  While you didn’t particularly feel prepared to do one, you did feel bad about the boys going two weeks without one, so you agreed and spent the morning getting ready.  When you finally emerged from your room dressed and ready to go to the studio, you found all the boys—all the boys—in the kitchen.  And Yoongi took his cup of coffee and walked out the door.  And Jin only took the time to look between the two of you before following him out.  And Jimin came and took your hand—softly, barely—in his and said that you should ride with them in their car, so you agreed and found yourself trying not to poke Jungkook’s arm every five seconds because you could tell it annoyed him as you rode to the studio.

            Then, because the older boys had arrived first, they were already leaving the hair and makeup room when you came in, Yoongi’s eyes glued to his phone as he walked past you, while Namjoon only stopped long enough to give you a reassuring smile and J-Hope gave your shoulder a pat on his way out.

            During the lesson, Yoongi had conveniently left his journal at home again, and you found yourself glancing at him even when helping someone else one-on-one.  But as he continued to not look at you and only responded when you specifically asked him a question but seemed to have no problem laughing with the boys or leaning in to whisper something to Tae or Jin who were sitting on either side of him, you felt your annoyance turn into shame.  He didn’t want to talk to you.  He didn’t even want to look at you.

            And the universe sent some tears into your eyes as an extra bonus, as if you didn’t feel sick and beaten down enough.

            But if you talked to him, you would feel better.  Or worse.  But either way you would at least know, and knowing was half the battle.  You could deal with him hating you later if that’s what it came to.  So as you wrapped up an easy lesson which was mostly just review and checking the boy’s journals, and you tried to hurry to get off your mic and go find Yoongi, but before you had even left the room Jungkook came up to you, his hands in his pockets.

            “Hey Jungkook,” you said, silently cursing the stupid mic chord that seemed to want to strangle you today, “what’s up?”

            “What are you doing?” he said.

            “Trying,” you grunted, “to get out of this stupid thing.”  Stepping forward, Jungkook put one of his hands on your shoulder and spun you around, and before you could react his hand was up your shirt, unclipping the mic, and pulling the string expertly through and out.  “Uh, _thanks,_ ” you said, turning around to give him an awkward smile.

            “I want to show you,” he said, handing the mic to a staff member, “at my studio.”

            “Oh, you want to show me something at your studio?” you asked, noticing Yoongi leaving the room out of the corner of your room.  You looked back at Jungkook who was nodding at you, resigning to the fate the universe was throwing at you today.  “Cool, sure, sounds good, _let’s go._ ”  For some reason you had taken to always throwing your finger toward a door whenever you said “ _Let’s go_ ” like a complete idiot, and Jungkook failed to suppress a grin at you.

            “Okay, let’s get it,” he said, also throwing a finger at the door.

            “Oh my god,” you said, rolling your eyes and wondering if you looked that dumb, and you pulled his sleeve to drag him out of the room.

 

            Jungkook’s studio was less decorated than Yoongi’s, barer and somehow less cozy.  You held the door open for him as he wheeled another chair in for you to sit in, and you pulled up next to him at his computer, but not too closely.

            “ _I’m making this,_ ” he said, pulling up a video.  You leaned forward in your chair a bit when it started, wondering why he wanted to show it to you.  Images of a field with waving grass came into focus, and the camera zoomed in as if someone was walking up toward someone.  Her back was turned, and she held a bouquet of flowers behind her back.  Her face turned slightly to the side before the screen went black.  It was you.  Your mouth fell open slightly when you recognized yourself and watched as the next scene was one where you had walked across the bridge, followed by you sitting by a colorful wall and then walking toward the camera looking annoyed.  Every shot was of you.

            “ _Why?_ ” you said, shaking your head.

            “ _We’re going to make a music video,_ ” Jungkook said.

            “ _With me_?”

            “ _Yeah, yeah, we got some good shots that day,_ ” he said, pointing at the screen and running the player back and forth between a few shots.  “ _All these black spaces are for what we need to still shoot.  So hopefully in two, three days,_ ” he counted with his fingers, “ _we can go shoot some more so I can finish editing._ ”

            “ _Why?  Why me?_ ” you said, still confused; you barely recognized yourself on the computer screen; in fact, most of the shots he had chosen were of you far away or from behind, so your face was rarely shown.  But still, you knew it was you, and you had no idea why it was you.  Jungkook shrugged.

            “ _I don’t have to pay you._ ”

            “ _Ya,_ ” you said, smacking his arm.  He rubbed it, a cheeky grin on his face.

            “ _The camera loves you,_ ” he said, rewinding to the part when he had told you to walk towards the camera and look pissed.  “ _See?  I want to know why you’re so upset._ ”  But Jungkook wasn’t looking at the computer anymore, he was looking at you.  And you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.  You opted to lean back and look up at the ceiling instead of him. 

            “How much of your life is you making decisions for yourself?” Jungkook’s eyes squinted, so you pulled out your phone and translator app and tried again.

            “ _Ah,_ ” he said, and, pulling up a translating site on his computer, typed in, “ _I make all of my own decisions._ ”

            “ _No, I mean,_ of course you have free will.  Okay, okay, _what about this._ Do you prefer to do things because you want to or because someone tells you to?”

            “ _On my own, of course._ ”

            “ _Right, right,_ so of all the things you do, do you do more things because someone tells you to, or you feel like you have to, or more things that you want to do?”

            “ _Ah,_ ” Jungkook said, leaning back in his chair and thinking with his mouth partially open.  “ _Ah, more things I have to do.  But I’m asked to do things I like doing.  Most of the time.  What does this have to do with the you_?”  You pulled your feet up into the chair to cross your legs and lean in closer to Jungkook.

            “ _I like control._ To be in control,” you said seriously, but then laughed and waved your hands at him.  “ _No, that sounds wrong._ But I do.  _To feel safe_ , _I need control._ But most of life is out of my control, _if that makes any sense_.”  Jungkook nodded, so you leaned back and laced your hands behind your head.  “So, _I get upset, sad, nervous, afraid_ when I don’t feel in control.  It’s uh,” you licked your lips and bit your bottom one, staring at the corner in the ceiling, “not a good trait when it comes to relationships.  It’s not a good thing.  _Bad thing._ ”  Jungkook nodded several times, and his face looked so serious you couldn’t help but smile and laugh lightly at him.  “So, being filmed by someone,” you said, indicating to his computer, “is just one of the many things I don’t have control over, and thus one thing that makes me nervous.”

            “Showing you,” Jungkook said, moving his mouse around and starting the video over again, “it helps?  Does it?”  One of his eyebrows was raised as he asked you, and there was no teasing in his voice or eyes.

            “ _Yes, thank you,_ ” you said, and he suddenly raised his hand for a high five.  You gave him one, and he gave you a thumbs-up.

            “I think,” Jungkook said, “we, _the guys,_ like control, too.”

            “ _Most people do,_ ” you said.  “Which is the problem.  No one wants to be controlled by anyone.  Even in a consenting way.  Well, not no one.  But one man’s pride will always clash with someone else’s, and people are generally selfish and want to be right and…” you stopped, looking at Jungkook’s blank face.  “Ah, _sorry, never mind._ I’m rambling,” you said, nodding at him.  “But Jungkook,” you said sternly, and he shut his mouth, leaning into you, “life is about balance.  So, control is no different.  _With a girl, with a woman, learn control._ And _you learn_ by asking questions.  _Ask questions._   _What she likes, what she doesn’t.  Listen.  And look._ She may say more without words than with words, _if that makes sense._ ”  Jungkook nodded again.

            “ _I’ve learned to read people well, but I sometimes forget the talking and listening part._ ”

            “ _Really?_ ” you said, and you hoped your tone wasn’t condescending; you were just surprised he was sharing this with you, and you wanted to know more without being intrusive.

            “ _Yeah, Jimin’s the best at it.  He can tell immediately if someone’s upset and knows exactly how to help.  I wish I could do that._ ”

            “ _Ah, we can’t all be Jimin,_ ” you said, laughing as you imagined a group of seven Jimin’s or a room of Jimin’s.  Jungkook nodded again.  “ _I hope you can talk to me.  I’m here to help._ ”

            “ _Please come visit me again sometime._ ”

            “ _I will.  Thank you, Jungkook,_ ” you said, and while it felt juvenile, you gave him another high five and then a small wave as you left him to work, taking your chair with you.  As you sat in the chair and rolled yourself down the hall while slowly turning around in circles, you smiled awkwardly at a staff member before finding what seemed like the chair’s home.  Wondering what else the universe had planned for you today, you knew the only way to have any control over what you were feeling—dread—was to face it head on.

            So you stood at the door of Yoongi’s studio, rubbing your hands up and down your thighs, and the feeling was only getting worse as you imagined him not even answering or telling you to go away or confirming he now thought poorly of you and didn’t want to be bothered by you.  You bit your lip, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath, telling yourself you knew you would feel better after you talked to him.  So you raised your hand to ring his little doorbell.

            “ _We need to talk,_ ” you said as soon as he opened the door—which was not soon enough, especially since you knew he was watching you before he opened the door—maybe even before you ran the doorbell—and you couldn’t see him, which wasn’t fair.  You didn’t wait for permission, just moved past him and sat down on the couch, waiting for him to close the door and sit in his chair, because that was what you were used to.  And you were grateful when he did and just sat there silently, because you wanted to talk, and you were afraid if he said something first you’d lose your resolve.  “ _I’m not good at this, this,_ communicating.  I admit I freaked out when I didn’t need to.  _I didn’t want to._   _I was nervous._ You make me nervous,” you almost muttered, your eyes leaving his for a moment because the way he was looking you was too intense.  “And now, _now I’m back,_ and you keep avoiding me.  _I think.  I think_ you’re avoiding me.  _And I don’t want that.  I want to be here,_ ” you said, indicating to the couch and the studio, “I know I’m so lucky to be here as is, but I would like to hang out with you again.  _More_.  I’d understand if you don’t want me around, but I’d just like to know if that’s what you want.  _Sorry my Korean is so bad,_ ” you winced.  But Yoongi stopped you.

            “ _No, your Korean is fine.  You want something._ What do you want?”  It could have come across as rude, but it wasn’t; Yoongi just wanted to understand and be clear, and you weren’t even good at explaining yourself in English half the time, much less another language.

            “Ah, _I want you to forgive me._ And forgive yourself.”

            “Done.  _There’s nothing to forgive.  You did nothing wrong,_ ” Yoongi explained.

            “Okay, _I want you to answer me_.  Are you avoiding me?” you asked, and the way that Yoongi’s eyes temporary fled to a shelf assured you you were right.  “ _Why_?”  The boy twirled the bracelets on his wrist once before taking a breath to answer, but even then you felt yourself leaning closer to hear him.

            “ _You’re like that piano.  I am afraid I will break you more._ ”  And you did break a little, but just a little.  And then you stood up and walked over to him, standing so close to his knees that yours almost knocked against them as you looked down at him in his chair.

            “Touch me.”

            “ _What_?” Yoongi said, but you were pretty sure he understood you.

            “Touch me,” you said, taking his hand and trying to place it on your hip, but he whipped it out of your grasp.

            “Y/N, _no,_ ” he said, but his voice sounded tired more than determined.

            “ _I want you to,_ ” you barely said, taking a step closer to him.  “ _Please._ ”  He stood up when you pleaded, and once again, even though he was close, and he wasn’t much taller than you, you found yourself looking up at him.

            “ _No, Y/N, you don’t want that._ ”  His voice was so stern; it almost broke you completely.

            “ _I do.  I need to know._ I have to try.  How else will I get better?”

            “ _You don’t_ —” Yoongi was saying, but you took one more step and bowed your head, causing your forehead to run into his chest, and you thought you heard him cuss under his breath, but he didn’t push you away, so you stayed there for a moment, breathing him in.  “Y/N, I…”  And you swear you almost headbutted him in surprise when you felt his head fall on yours, but you took a breath and let him lay in your hair for a moment, but then his head was gone, so you lifted yours and stood away from him again.  And damn, if his eyes weren’t speaking to you, telling you he wanted to, then you swore you would pluck your own eyes out and never see him again, so without another thought you took his hand again, and since he stiffened, you simply held it loosely between the two of you until his fingers curled around yours.  You guided it to your hip again and placed it there, and his fingers uncurled to lay against your belt loops, toying with one of them.  And as soon as you let go of his hand he licked his lips.

            “ _Is this okay_?” he said, his voice low, and you nodded.  Fueled by your nod, he brought up his other hand on his own and placed it on your other hip.  “ _Is this okay_?”  You nodded again, but you could feel your breath quickening, and he could tell too, so he stood there for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours as you took deep breaths.  When your breathing seemed normal again, you smiled at him, and his lips curled, too.  He took a tiny step toward you, and his voice was so gentle.

            “ _Show me._ ”  You bit your lip, and your brows furrowed at his instructions, but you took a breath and gave him a tiny nod, earning you another smile from him.  Tentatively, your hands twitching—you had to look away from him to watch them, and you let out a huff of air at the sight—you placed one and then the other—your eyes shifting back and forth between them—on Yoongi’s hips, feeling the hard material of his jeans underneath his shirt.  You looked back up at him then, and his smile was gone, but everything was still fine.  But his hair was falling in his eyes too much—you wanted to see his eyes—so you brought a hand up to push his hair to the side, and he shook his head backwards slightly to help move his hair before smiling down at you again.  And you felt his grip tighten on your hips, just barely, as you wrapped your arm around him and placed your hand on his lower back, pressing his shirt into his skin.  He stiffened just slightly and licked his lips again, but didn’t break his gaze, so you brought your other arm around him until your fingers linked together and you used them to pull him ever so closer to you.  And even though his eyes got a little darker, Yoongi kept his cool, and one of his hands left your hip—and you immediately missed the pressure—to come slowly, softly to the side of your face, and two, no, three of his fingers ran through your hair and skimmed lightly over the top of your ear, one finger after another.

            “ _Is this okay?_ ” he asked again, and you couldn’t tell if you were nodding or not, but his fingers were running through your hair again and trickling down your ear until they pulled at your earlobe once, your tiny hairs prickling.  But when his hand barely grazed your neck you pulled it away from him, so he withdrew and instead turned to copying you, both of his arms wrapping around you until his hands were clasped behind your back.  “ _Is this okay_?” he said, his voice still a whisper, and you nodded again.  “ _Okay, good,_ ” he said, his voice returning to normal and a smile spreading over his face, “ _I can touch you._ ”  And your eyes must have done something, or your breath must have hitched, because Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, and the fingers on your back dug into your skin.  “ _Y/N?  Where are you?_ ”  You blinked at Yoongi, your fingers on his back relaxing.

            “ _Your studio_?”

            “ _Right.  Who are you with_?”

            “Uh, you,” you said, a smile on your lips.  “ _What are you doing?_ ”

            “ _No, what are you doing?_ ” he said, emphasizing “you.”

            “Um.  Touching you?” you said, starting to laugh.

            “ _That’s right, touching Min Yoongi in his studio._ ”

            “ _Ya_ ,” you said, unclasping your hands and swatting his arms away, “that sounds gross.”  He wrinkled your nose at you but gave you a boxy grin which only made you laugh more.

            “ _I’m sorry I moved too quickly,_ ” he said, reaching for your hand again.“ _I was impatient.  It won’t happen again,_ ” he said, his voice serious again.

            “Okay.  _I forgive you,_ even though there’s really nothing to forgive. _Really._ ”

            “ _Next time just tell me what to do.  Or what not to do_.”

            “ _I thought you hated that._ ”

            “I do,” Yoongi said, looking at the top of your head and running his fingers through your hair one time before sticking both of his hands in his pocket.  “ _What do you want me to do now_?”  You pretended to think about it seriously for a moment, your finger on your lips, and you hummed before answering.

            “ _Do some work._ ”

            “ _What about you_?”

            “I’ll sit here,” you said, pointing to the couch.  He nodded at you and sat down on his chair.  Once he turned around and put his headphones on, you let out a huge sigh and blinked your eyes several times.

            He can touch you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blushed so much writing this, but whew, finally Y/N and Yoongi talked about it.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You shoot a music video with the vocal line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> I just love "The Truth Untold" and the story behind it. I visualize it so well, and it always makes me cry.

**Day 35**

            Jungkook had come by Yoongi’s studio yesterday to tell you about today’s plan, and Yoongi had smiled as he watched the younger boy excitedly explain everything.  Shooting a music video definitely wasn’t your forte, considering you’d never done one, but Jungkook assured you it was just going to require some minimal acting and dancing on your part.  Plus you would get to hang out with the vocal line all day, so despite your apprehension, you said you couldn’t wait.

            At ten AM you were at the studio with Mina, Jungkook, Jimin, Tae, Jin, and a few other staff members, all smiles from your combination of nerves and ready to hear the plan.  The boys were clearly excited, too.  Jungkook seemed the most serious as the other three kept cracking jokes, mostly teasing Jungkook and smacking each other.  Everyone was dressed already in all black, which was a little unnerving, so you listened closely as Jungkook explained the concept for today.

            “ _Okay_ ,” he said, standing at the head of the table like he was leading an important meeting, clapping his hands once to get everyone’s attention, “ _we have three shoots planned today.  First, we’ll be at a house with a garden, then this park parking lot, then back to the house after it’s dark.  I want to thank the staff for helping me find the locations and setting everything up._ ”  Jungkook bowed to the staff in the room and everyone else gave small claps and said thank you.  “ _We,_ ” Jungkook said, waving his fingers at the three boys sitting next to you, “ _are all playing one character, the same character, and Y/N will be the girl in the garden._ ”  You were following along mostly, but you were glad Mina was beside you translating.  You raised your hand tentatively, and when Jungkook smiled at you, you asked,

            “ _Is there_ a story behind this?  _A story?  What is it?_ ”

            “ _Ah,_ ” Tae said, leaning forward in his chair, his voice thick with emotion “ _there is a man who grows beautiful flowers in his garden.  And one day he sees this girl stealing his flowers at night.  He gets so mad, but when she comes back to steal more, he follows her and figures out she’s just selling them to survive.  She is beautiful, like a delicate flower, and so he spends a long time making a new flower for her so she can steal it to sell and never be poor again.  But by the time the flower was ready, the girl had already died._ ”

            “ _What?  That’s depressing!_ And he never met the girl?  _He didn’t talk to her_?

            “ _No,_ ” Tae sad, shaking his head sadly.

            “ _Why?_ ”

            “Ugly.  _He thinks he is too ugly._ ”  You nodded, understanding, and while the story made you sad, you couldn’t help but laugh at what Jin said.

            “ _Which is why I’m offended I have to play him.  I’m too handsome to ever be called ugly._ ”  Jimin gave him a playful smack, and Jungkook continued.

            “ _So, we’ll do some shoots inside, and Y/N will do some outside.  At one point, Jin, you’ll also be in the garden looking for Y/N.  At the parking lot we’ll run through the dance._ ”  You halfway raised your hand again.

            “ _Jimin and I will dance_?”

            “ _Yes,_ ” Jungkook said, nodding, _“well, we all will.  You’ll dance with each of us._ ”

            “Oh, _you all learned it_?”  When the boys nodded you gave them all a round of applause, and they smiled at you. 

            “ _And after the sun goes down we’ll go back to the house to shoot the end of the dance.  And that’ll be a wrap.  I’ll be doing the filming, but Tae and Jimin will help for my scenes and behind the scenes shots, okay_?”

            “ _Okay,_ ” Jimin said, giving Jungkook a thumbs-up.  Tae nodded, too.

            “Are your black outfits on purpose?” you asked.

            “ _Ah,_ ” Jungkook said, touching his chest, “ _yes.  We’ll wear black except for the dance in the parking lot, we’ll change to match you._ ”

            “ _What am I wearing?_ ”

            “ _A blue dress.  Mina will show you._ ”

            “Oh, so you’re all wearing dresses, too?” you said with a smile, and when Mina translated the boys gave you an ah-ha look.  “ _Sorry, just kidding, just kidding._ _Okay, cool, what else?_ ”

            “ _I think that’s it,_ ” Jungkook muttered, looking over a notebook and rubbing the back of his neck.

            “Jungkook,” you said, and he looked back up at you, “ _it will be great._ ”  The boys and the staff all added their agreement, and he gave you a grateful smile.

            “ _Okay,_ ” he said, clapping his hands once again, “ _let’s go._ ”

            “ _Let’s go,_ ” you said, doing that stupid thing again where you snapped your fingers and threw them toward the door like a big happy idiot.

 

            The boys waited for you in the lobby while Mina helped you change and get ready.  When you finally joined them, you swished your dress back and forth several times, and they all gave you smiles.  It was a bright blue dress with short sleeves that looked pretty simple except that the bottom was lined with lines of thin, small white flowers.  You figured if you sat down in the grass it would look like you were surrounded by flowers.  You all piled into one car, the rest of the staff in another, and you sat in the back with Tae and Jimin beside you.  In the car, the boys got on their phones or made small talk, but you kept watching Jungkook check his supplies or stare off out the window deep in thought.

            “ _Is he nervous_?” you finally whispered to Jimin.

            “ _Yes, he wants to do well.  It’s a big responsibility.  But he loves this.  He’s always wanted to shoot one on his own._ ”

            “Ah, no pressure,” you muttered, but you gave Jimin a smile.         

 

            The house you all finally pulled up at looked like something out of a ruined fairy tale.  It was several stories high with most of its windows busted out, but beneath it stood a beautiful, though slightly overrun, garden.  You stood there taking pictures until you were told what to do, and by the time Jungkook called you over, he and Jimin both had a camera out, though Jimin’s was smaller.  He pointed this one at you.

            “ _What do you think_?” he said.

            “This looks like a place you’d bring someone to to murder them,” you said, smiling.  “ _I love it._ ”  You gave them an approving thumbs-up, and soon Jungkook was whisking everybody upstairs, the staff telling everyone to be careful.  You were introduced to an older lady who owned the place and also looked like she belonged in some fairy tale.  You felt like at any moment she would just disappear or turn into a bird and fly away.  She warned everyone about certain steps to avoid as she led you up to the third floor.  The house was simply perfect.  One room particularly had vines creeping through the broken windows and growing along the walls inside.  You scurried around, taking pictures and avoiding anything that looked sharp or dangerous as Jungkook sat up his equipment.  The boys would shoot first, so you stayed in the background with Mina, taking more pictures and trying to contain your excitement. 

            The boys, naturally, made everything looked easy, especially Tae and Jin.  They moved almost instinctively down the hallway with Jungkook following behind them with the camera, their black figures almost melting into the darkness, and took directions without any hesitation whenever Jungkook asked them to try something different or to re-do something.  When it was Jungkook’s turn, Tae took his camera and did well filming, as Jungkook only came back to monitor it once before giving his approval.

            “ _Okay, Y/N,_ ” he finally said, “ _can you go down to the garden?_ ”

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said, and you and Mina traipsed down the steps and let the owner show you into the garden.  Soon you were positioned to where when you looked up you saw the boys through one of the broken windows, waving down at you.  “ _Hello,_ ” you called, waving back.

            “ _Y/N, I just need you to kneel down right there,_ ” Jungkook said, pointing, “ _and look down at the flowers._ ”

            “ _Okay,_ ” you said, shuffling your feet. “ _Here?_ ”

            “ _Left, I mean, right more._ ”

            “ _Here?_ ” you said after moving again.

            “ _Okay!_ ”

            “ _Okay,_ ” you said, kneeling down and ducking your head a bit.  You stayed in that position long enough for your legs to start to hurt folded underneath you until finally you couldn’t take it anymore and moved your legs out to your side, sighing.  You dared a peek up at the window, too, and you saw Jin looking down at you, so you returned your head down and picked at another flower.  After several more minutes—by this point your head was wandering more as you were getting paranoid bugs were crawling on you and kept checking to see if it was a leaf or a cockroach running past you—you heard Jungkook yell down to you, so you stood up to stretch.  Soon Jungkook was setting up his camera in the garden, his forehead in perpetual furrowed mode today, and Jimin came up to you with his small one again.

            “ _How’d it go_?” you asked him first, and he smiled at you.

            “ _It’s really gross up there.  I kept thinking I was going to fall through a hole in the floor._ ”

            “ _Ah, it’s so cool,_ ” you said after Mina translated for you.

            “ _How are you feeling_?” Jimin said, and you looked around the garden and over at Jungkook.

            “ _I’m nervous,_ ” you said, breathing heavily for dramatic effect.  “ _I want to do well._   I want Jungkook to be happy.  So I will do my best.”  You gave Jimin a thumbs-up and hurried over to Jungkook, who was calling you.

            “ _Okay, I’m not going to film your face, everything from behind or a certain angle or some blurred shots on purpose, okay?_ ” Jungkook explained by pantomiming with his hands and the camera.

            “ _Okay,_ ” you said, nodding.  So as Tae held the camera, Jungkook showed you what he wanted you to do, and soon he was back behind the camera and you were walking slowly through the garden, looking up and around, kneeling down, and picking up flowers.  After a few takes Jungkook seemed satisfied, so he called Jin over to capture him looking through the garden, too.

            “ _You know,_ ” you said, standing next to Jimin and Tae a little way away, “taken the wrong way, this could become a stalker film.  Four stalkers waiting to kill me.”  Mina wasn’t around, so you were left to laugh at your own joke by yourself.  You kept listening for Jungkook’s clap, and as soon as it came you were all off to the next location. 

            It wasn’t as impressive as the house, in your opinion, but it was on top of a hill, so the background could be mostly sky, and the parking lot was broken enough in some places that little patches of weeds or flowers grew up through the cracks, and overall it had a subtle beauty to it that you thought would fit the dance nicely.  The boys had changed back at the house and now all wore black pants and a different variety of blue shirts or hoodies.  The look was simple, but you appreciated the symbolism behind their clothes—they can’t be fully with you, so their clothes are only half blue.  While Jungkook was setting up and talking to some of the staff about the plan, Jimin came over to you and placed his hand on the small of your back.

            “Are you ready?”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, laughing and trying to explain. “ _It’s been long._ I haven’t done the dance again.  _I don’t remember?_ ”

            “Ah, okay, let’s go,” Jimin said, taking your hand and leading you to an empty part of the lot.  Without any music he began to lead you, humming and making little noises to keep the beat.  After a few missteps from nerves, everything came back to you, and you realized again after hearing Tae explain the story that morning how sad the dance really was.  By the time you were done, Jungkook was ready, and you were glad when he told Jimin to go first, as he was the one you were most comfortable with.  So, being mindful of cracks and your feet, you and Jimin did the dance twice, once with Jungkook shooting from far away, and once closer up, almost moving in-between the pair of you, but being mindful to not film your face.

            “I have to do this eight times?” you said, a little out of breath by the time you had finished.  “I mean, it’s not that hard, but I’m so sweaty already,” you laughed, fanning your face.  After a few minutes of rest, it was Tae’s turn, followed by Jungkook’s and finally Jin’s.  At first dancing with the other three was a little awkward, as you hadn’t practiced with them before, but you soon saw that they knew the dance, and they weren’t going to let you fall or mess up, so you relaxed, confident you all knew what you were doing.  Still, it was interesting noting the differences in how each boy danced.

            Jimin was soft and gentle, his face almost inquisitive every time he looked at you, as if he was making sure you were always okay.  Tae’s grips were firmer, more sure, and his eyes always stared at you as if he knew exactly what you were going to do next so he was always one step ahead of you, waiting for you to follow his steps or take his hand.  Jungkook was a little too tense, and his moves seemed to have a sharper edge to them, and his face almost looked sorrowful whenever you met his gaze, but you kept trying to reassure him he was in control and you wanted him to be as you let him guide your body across the ground.  And Jin, ever confident, and the tallest of the four, only looked at you sweetly and held your hands so tenderly that when he dropped them suddenly at the end of the song as the choreography demanded, you somehow felt a twinge of sadness in your gut.

            You made sure to praise and thank them each for their hard work after you were done, and they did the same back to you.  Sitting under a tree for some shade, you all drank water while the boys watched the footage for any mistakes.  You honestly were fine not seeing it because you knew you had made mistakes and didn’t want to be reminded of them.

            “ _Aish, I kept getting that one part wrong,_ ” Jimin mumbled, pointing at the small screen.

            “ _It’s okay, I’ll just use someone else for that part,_ ” Jungkook said.  Jimin didn’t really looked pleased at that, either, though, and Tae reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“ _Ya!  Why didn’t you film my face more_?” Jin said, hopefully joking despite his tone.

            “ _You have a close-up in the garden, there are plenty,_ ” Jungkook said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.  You were leaning against the tree with your eyes closed, and you finally mumbled,

            “ _I’m hungry.  Can we eat_?”  All four boys looked at you, noticing how red your face was, and they all rushed to stand up and pull you to your feet.  It was later in the afternoon than you thought, and you realized after all of that dancing how light headed you were feeling, so as you all drove to eat a late lunch or early dinner, you couldn’t help leaning your head against Jimin’s shoulder and struggled to keep your eyes open.  Him holding one of your hands and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles only made you more relaxed, and you were feeling very drowsy by the time you arrived at the restaurant.  You were ushered into a back room, and the boys went to change back into their all black clothes, and part of you was annoyed you had to stay in your now sweaty dress, and dinner was loud—too loud—and while it was so sweet that once again Jin served you a plate and made you start eating before they did, after a few bites you left the boys’ table to go sit near Mina.

            “Are you okay?” she said, looking into your face with concern.

            “Yeah,” you muttered, “I think I’m getting a headache.  I’m having lots of fun.  But this is exhausting.”

            “Yes,” Mina said, putting another piece of meat on your plate.  “You’re doing really well, though.  I can tell Jungkook is happy.”

            “Oh?” you said, looking back at the boys at the table.  As if on cue, Jungkook was imitating something Jin had done earlier, and the entire table burst into laughter, even Jin, who still didn’t hesitate to smack Jungkook on his arm and fuss at him.  You smiled, happy as well, and forgetting she was still at work, you leaned your head against Mina’s shoulder.  She stiffened slightly and patted your arm, so you lifted your head back up and went to sit with the boys until everyone was finished eating.

            And after the meal you drove back to the house with the garden, and the sun was already going down, and they had strung lights up, and the boys went upstairs to film again looking out the window in the dark now, and they came back down still in their black clothes to film the last part of the dance in the garden with you.  And each time you stood facing away from them, each boy trying to reach you before turning away himself, your body felt heavier and heavier, and you actually leaned over Jimin’s shoulder, pushing him down a bit so you could see, as Jungkook replayed those shots, and your mouth hung open a bit at the sight.

            “Wow,” you said.  “Jungkook, _it looks so good._ ”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” he agreed, but it was a relieved, satisfied, grateful “ _yeah_ ,” and everyone hugged and poked and congratulated him.

            And the rest of the evening became a little bit of a blur as your head hurt more and more.  You thanked the sweet owner of the garden and took a group shot and a few more of the flowers under the lights before piling back into the car.  And you leaned on Jimin’s shoulder again, and the boys were quieter now, Jungkook already reviewing footage while biting his lip.  And you closed your eyes in the elevator and leaned against the cool wall.  And when the boys walked into the dorm with you following behind, your eyes were open enough to see Yoongi on the couch, and he sat up as you all came in, his face looking concerned when he saw you, but you gave him a small wave and went to your room, Jin following behind.  You didn’t really notice he was behind you until you started to get into bed and you heard him at the door.

            “ _Ya, go wash your face and change._ ”

            “Ah,” you pretended to scream, dropping the covers and blowing a raspberry at him.  But you took some pajamas out of a drawer and closed the bathroom door behind you to brush your teeth and wash your face.  When you came out he was standing by your bed, a wet rag in his hand.  As you climbed into bed to lie down, he squatted down to place the rag on your forehead.

            “Sleep well,” he said softly.

            “Jin, _thank you,_ ” you said with closed eyes, and soon you heard your door shutting.  And you tried to fall asleep, but the pain was still a bit too much, and a few tears escaped your eyes, and you tried to let the low voices coming from the living room lull you to sleep.

 

            “ _Is she okay_?” Yoongi said when Jin entered the living room, his head in Jimin’s lap.

            “ _Yes,_ ” Jin said, slumping into the couch next to Jungkook.  “ _She just got a headache, a migraine probably._   _What’re you doing home for once_?”

            “ _I needed a break.  Wanted to see if Y/N wanted to go for a walk,_ ” Yoongi said, turning most of his attention back to his phone.  Jimin looked from him and Jin before running his fingers through Yoongi’s hair a few times.

            “ _Don’t bother her.  You either, Tae,_ ” Jin said, his eyes closed and his head leaning back on the couch.  Jimin saw Yoongi’s eyes flit to Tae.

            “ _Okay, I won’t,_ ” Tae said, unbothered.  But his eyes almost glared at Yoongi when he said,

            “ _You shouldn’t sleep with her anymore, anyway._ ”  His tone as casual as possible, and he wasn’t even looking at Tae.

            “ _Why_?” the younger boy said slowly.

            “ _It may confuse her,_ ” Yoongi said.  Jin’s eyes were open now, and he looked back and forth between the two.

            “ _What do you mean_?”

            “ _It’s not something friends do._ ”

            “ _I sleep with Jimin and Jungkook and even you, hyung,_ ” Tae said, his voice sounding hurt.

            “ _That’s different, and you know it.  We’re family.  And guys. And we’ve known each other for ever.  You’re just going to confuse her,_ ” Yoongi said again, looking back at his phone.

            “ _You’re confusing her, too,_ ” Tae muttered.

            “ _What do you mean_?”  Yoongi said, his eyes shifting lazily to the boy on the other side of the couch.  Jimin’s fingers had stopped moving through his hair, and even Jungkook wasn’t distracted by his camera anymore.  But Tae didn’t answer, so Yoongi sat up, rolling his neck.

            “ _Tae, do you like Y/N_?” he said.  Tae licked his lips and his eyes narrowed, but his voice was almost pleading.

            “ _Yoongi, do we have to talk about this now?_ ”

            “ _Yes or no, Tae,_ ” Yoongi said.  “ _If the answer is no, then stop sleeping with her.  If the answer is yes, then it’s time to tell us,_ ” Yoongi said, and his gaze only left Tae when his phone buzzed.  You were texting him.

            “Can you come here for a minute?”

“ _Ah, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this without Namjoon and J-Hope around,_ ” Jimin said softly, tugging on Yoongi’s sleeve.  Yoongi looked up at Jimin and then at Tae, whose face was contorted.

            “ _You’re right, Jimin.  I’m sorry I brought it up.  Tae?_ ” he said, standing up and reaching his hand down to Tae.  “ _Sorry.  I’ve been a real jerk lately.  I know you care about her.  We all do.  So let’s do our best, okay_?”  Tae took his hand and shook it once, nodding.  “ _I’m going to bed.  Show me footage tomorrow, okay Jungkook_?”  The youngest nodded at him as they waved him out of the room, but Jin’s eyes followed him as he walked down the hallway.

 

            A soft knock on your door made you groan, but you managed a groggy,

            “Come in.”  Though it hurt, you opened your eyes, and through the light of the hallway saw Yoongi standing there.

            “What’s wrong?” he said, his phone still in his hand as he came to crouch down next to your bed.

            “ _Nothing._   I mean, I have a headache.  I just, _I thought I heard your voice.  I was right._ ”

            “ _You could hear us?_ ” Yoongi said, his forehead twitching slightly.

            “ _No,_ not exactly.”

            “How did you know?  _How did you know it was me_?”

            “You have a very distinct voice,” you muttered, and Yoongi nodded.  It was quiet for a few seconds, so you closed your eyes again, until his very distinct voice, a little too low, met your ears again.

            “Y/N, _will you not sleep with Tae anymore_?”

            “ _What?  Why?_ ” you said, not bothering to open your eyes.  But Yoongi didn’t respond.  “Is this about being careful?  _Careful_?”

            “ _Yes,_ ” Yoongi said slowly.

            “ _Why?_ ”  But Yoongi was quiet again.  “ _Yoongi?  Tell me.  Please,_ ” you added, not wanting to sound too forceful or annoyed.

            “ _He gets attached too easily.  You’ll break his heart._ His heart might break.”

            “Isn’t that what you all signed up for?  Didn’t you understand what you were getting yourself into?”  Yoongi didn’t respond, and you worried he didn’t understand, so you turned on your side so you could open your eyes and see him a little better.  Surprisingly, he was smiling slightly at you.

            “ _No,_ ” he said when he saw you looking at him, “ _we’re all idiots._ ”  You didn’t contradict him on that fact.

            “Is that all?  The only reason?”  You were pressing your eyes shut and rubbing your temple so hard you almost didn’t hear him answer.

            “ _Yes._ ”

            “ _Okay_ ,” you said, sighing.  “And is this you asking or all of you?  _Whose decision?_ ”

“Well, me, _but I know Namjoon will agree._ ”

            “Okay,” you said again, softly, not looking forward to now having to have a conversation with Tae about all of this, and definitely not wanting to hurt him.  “I guess I’ll just stay away,” you said almost to yourself, and Yoongi may not have heard you, or you just didn’t give him time to answer if he did.  “ _Yeah, okay, I won’t anymore.  But, Yoongi, I really like him._ ”  Yoongi was too quiet.  “He.  He makes me feel safe.  _Safe._ ”

            “I…don’t?” you barely heard Yoogi mutter, and you opened your eyes again to look at him.  Shit, he looked too pitiful.

            “ _No, no, I mean, you do._ There’s just something about him.  And Jimin.”  Yoongi nodded several times.

            “Everyone likes them.  _They’re approachable._   _Charismatic_.”

            “ _Approachable?_ ” you asked, not sure of the word.

            “Ah, go to easy,” Yoongi said.  “Likeable.”

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said, squinting your eyes again.  “Easy to go to…Oh, maybe approachable?”  Yoongi hummed.

            “You like… _you like guys who are approachable?_ ”

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said a-matter-of-factly.  “ _I like people who are_ approachable.  Yoongi, _everyone likes people who are approachable._ That’s why people who are approachable are so likeable.  Everyone likes them.  _Everyone loves Tae_.  And _Jimin loves everyone_ , so everyone loves him back.  And J-Hope is an ocean of happy, so everyone wants to swim in him.  That’s weird,” you said, laughing softly, not really sure if Yoongi understood, but you wanted to explain anyway.  “Let’s say you go to a party, and there’s someone there who is surrounded by people who’s laughing and having a good time.  And there’s someone in the corner with his arms crossed, looking surly, grumpy.  Most people will go to the happy looking person.”

            “What about you?”

            “Ah,” you said, surprised he was following along so well.  “Well,” you faltered, opening your eyes to look at him again.  “ _It depends.  I’d want to know_ why grumpy guy was upset.  _Can I help him?_   But happy guy is the safer bet, because if I go to the grumpy guy he may get mad or not want to be helped.  But this is too simple.  _Life isn’t this simple._ ”  Yoongi sat down on the ground and leaned back on his hands, twisting his mouth.

            “ _Am I approachable_?”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, maybe too quickly.  “You’re intimidating.”

            “Ah,” Yoongi said, but he chuckled.  “You too.”

            “ _Me?  No.  What?_ Bull shit.  _Why_?”  Yoongi shrugged.

            “You’re smart, strong, beautiful.”

            “ _Aish, don’t say things you don’t mean, Yoongi.”_

            “ _I never do,_ ” Yoongi said, looking softly at you, but you closed your eyes to try to shut out some of the pain radiating through your body.  You only opened them slightly when you felt a hand in your hair, and Yoongi’s fingers twitched once, then twice.

            “Yoongi,” you said softly, “it’s just an analogy.  _I wouldn’t._ I wouldn’t always pick the happy guy over the grumpy one.  _Do you understand_?”  His fingers swept through your hair two more times before he placed the damp rag back on your forehead.

“ _Rest well, Y/N,_ ” he said before closing the door behind him.

 

            “ _Hyung?_ ”  Tae’s voice was muffled, his face almost buried in a pillow of his blankets.

            “ _Yes?_ ” Yoongi mumbled back as he climbed into his own bed.

            “ _Do you like Y/N?  Because if you do…_ ”

            “ _No.  Goodnight, Tae._ ”  Yoongi brought his blanket tight around him, and he was almost asleep when he heard Tae’s deep voice say back,

            “ _Sleep well, Yoongi._ ”  But he didn’t, not really, because he kept re-hearing what you had said and re-thinking what he had said.

 _“Aish, don’t say things you don’t mean_ , _Yoongi._ ”

            “ _Shit,_ ” he said, sitting up in bed.  “Tae?”  But Tae’s deep breathes were already floating through the air, and Yoongi slammed his head back down onto his pillow, forcing his eyes to close and his brain to shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “This looks like a place you’d bring someone to to murder them,” you said, smiling. “I love it.” :D
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your rescheduled “date” with Tae is a little like the last one, with one major difference…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> Is this fluff? Angst?

**Day 36**

            Maybe you should just stay away.  It’s what you always did when you knew something was going to end.  For some reason you had convinced yourself that it made everything easier and hurt less, even though you knew ultimately that was selfish and only resulted in greater self-hatred.  But could you control what was in your nature?  Even if you didn’t want to push Tae away, or any of the boys, could you really stop yourself from doing it?

 

            If you weren’t going to run away, then you were going to have to face the day.  And your day, per Mina’s instructions, included having an English lesson at eleven.

            “We need to catch up,” she had texted, causing you to wince, considering it was your fault there had been so few lessons lately.  You had been planning a lesson weeks ago, but you just had to check your supplies to make sure everything was ready, so you decided to ask Jisung to pick you up early so you could work before the boys arrived.

            You really hadn’t thought things through, though; if the boys weren’t at home—which they weren’t when you left—then they were probably at work.  So you shouldn’t have been surprised when you got to the studio and saw Namjoon pacing in the lobby.  He had his phone in his hands with headphones in, so you tried to just give him a small wave and not bother him, but he pulled one out as you walked by.

            “Hey, Y/N,” he said, giving you a tired smile.

            “Hey, Namjoon.  Everything okay?”

            “ _Yeah, yeah,_ ready for today?”

            “About to be, I hope, just going to go check on my supplies and talk with Mina.”

            “ _Cool, cool,_ ” Namjoon said, and his eyes glanced back at his phone, so you thought maybe it was your sign to leave, but no one else was around, so you should take the opportunity.

            “Uh, Namjoon, I know you’re probably going to say I should just talk to him about it,” you said, and the boy’s face looked at you again with an inquisitive but amused look, “but, well, I know all about the rules, but there isn’t one that specifically covers this, I don’t think, and Yoongi just said something the other day, and I’m not sure what—”

            “Is this about Tae?” Namjoon said, cutting your rambling off.

            “Ah, _yes._ ”

            “You’re right, you should talk to him,” Namjoon said, smiling and looking back at his phone.  But he looked back up again in a second, a bigger smile on his face.

            “Ya,” you groaned, making a face at him.  Namjoon sat down and crossed his arms, clicking his tongue a few times.  “Yoongi told me, you know?”  Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head.  “Please don’t get him in trouble for it.  He just wanted me to know.  After the camera incident.  He told me what the company wanted.  About experimenting.  Seeing how fans will react.”  Namjoon’s eyes floated to the ceiling, and he licked his lips.  “I leave in, like, two weeks.  How do you think the experiment is going?  Am I a good test subject?”  You hadn’t meant for your words to sound so bitter.  You knew it was just you reacting in fear and confusion.  You weren’t mad at Namjoon.

            “Y/N,” Namjoon said softly, standing up and taking a step toward you, but you took one step back, and he stopped dead in his tracks.  The clearing of his throat seemed to echo though the otherwise quiet and empty lobby.  “I know this is a lot to ask, but can you promise me something?”  You waited for him to continue.  “If you’re mad, which I would understand, only take it out on me, okay?”

            “Wh—” you opened your mouth, not sure why he was saying such things.

            “I’m the one who picked you.  The other boys all agreed with me.  This is all my fault.  I would take it all back if I could.”

            “You would?” you said, trying not to sound hurt, because what he was saying wasn’t mean, it wasn’t, but you were hearing something that he wasn’t saying.

            “No, I mean,” Namjoon said, taking another step toward you and grabbing onto the bottom of your jacket sleeve, his fingers barely touching the top of your hand, “I’m glad you’re here.  We’re all glad you’re here.  But I was selfish when I picked you.  I wanted,” he said, but he hesitated, and in the silence that ensued you took a deep breath.

            “Why did you pick me?”  Namjoon’s face rose to meet yours, and he opened his mouth, but the door to the lobby was sliding open, and his hand dropped limply at his side as he took a step away from you, jamming his earbud back at record speed.  You blinked twice before you turned to see Tae and Jin entering, their loud voices filling the lobby.

            “Y/N!” Tae said, running up to give you a big hug.  You returned it too stiffly, you know you did, and Tae knew it, and even Jin saw it, so you weren’t surprised when some of the excitement in Tae’s eyes was gone when he pulled away from you.  “Ah, do you want to go on a date with me tonight?”

            “Oh,” you said, unable to not smile at how deep and slow his voice got when he spoke in English.  “A real ‘date’ with cameras and everything?”  You meant it as a joke, you really did, so you were glad when the boys smiled or laughed.  “ _Of course, yes.  Thank you._   I’ll talk to Mina about it, okay?”  Tae nodded and gave your elbow a squeeze as he went past you, and Jin gave you a small smile.

            “Namjoon?” you said when the other two boys had left.  “I’m not mad at you, okay?  But I am upset, no, sad, that you seem to be mad at yourself over me or about me.  I’m not worth that energy.  But I do hope one day you can tell me why you picked me.”  Your words were rushed, because you saw him stand up again, and you hadn’t expected to have this conversation, so you didn’t want to.  “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you finished before he could say anything, and you left him to continue his pacing.

 

            It was in your nature to stuff your emotions and put on a happy face even when you weren’t feeling like it, so you let your nature take over as Mina fixed your hair and makeup and told you about the plans later with Tae that you only half heard, because stuffing your emotions was a little like stuffing your ears; you sometimes only heard what you wanted to.  But you were pretty sure too many of the boys could tell something was wrong, so you worked to genuinely be happy, which, if you were honest with yourself, was easier than you anticipated, because the boys could make you laugh so easily, and it was hard to be anything but happy—even if temporarily—when you were laughing.

            You started with checking their journals again—which everyone actually had today, so you made sure to tease Yoongi relentlessly in front of everyone about this fact—and when Jimin came up to you with his, his legs folding underneath him, his back straight like a good student, he leaned toward you and opened up his book to a certain page.

            “That’s for you,” he said proudly, a slip of paper almost falling out when you opened his journal.  “I wrote it.”  You were about to thank him and praise him when you glanced at how long it looked through the thin paper, but he stopped you.  “It’s in Korean.”  You laughed and put it in your pocket for later, thanking him anyway.

            “Okay, everyone,” you said once you had checked each journal, “a couple of lessons ago I told you to practice some phrases.”  The boys nodded, and Tea and J-Hope seemed to be holding those very same papers in their hands, waving them triumphantly while giving smug grins to the other boys.  “Okay, okay, so today we’re going to do a little acting.”  Jin and Tae both perked up at the word, and Jimin hid his face in his hand, but he came back up with a smile.  “I will give you a situation, a scene, and a part to play.  Your job is to only speak in English and to get through the scene.  Do your best!”  The boys were all nodding.  “Namjoon, you’ll be in both scenes so we’ll have four and four.”  He groaned playfully but agreed.  Soon the boys chose a paper and separated into groups A and B before you explained which was which. 

            “Okay, group A, Namjoon, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi, you are all going to be stuck in an elevator.”

            “Really?” Jungkook said, looking around.

            “Pretend, pretend,” Jimin said, patting his arm.

            “Group B,” and Jin, Tae, and J-Hope cheered, “you, with Namjoon, will be in a bank being robbed.”

            “Got it, got it,” J-Hope said, squatting down and using his fingers for guns.

            “Right, right,” you said, “now, pick your parts.”  There was a dash for the next strips of paper, and on your signal they all opened them, and with a little help from Namjoon or you they read their parts.

            “I’m someone who just got fired stuck in an elevator,” Namjoon said.

            “And I, _fired,_ fired?  I fired him.  I’m his boss,” Jimin said, pointing at Namjoon and laughing.

            “I hate crowds,” Jungkook said, bringing his arms close to himself and making a disgusted face.

            “And I’m going to see my girlfriend but am late, very late,” Yoongi said, nodding his head gently several times.

            “Great, and group B?”

            “Oh, that’s also me,” Namjoon said.  “I’m robbing the bank.”

            “I’m the handsome banker,” Jin said.

            “I’m at the bank.  Customer,” Tae said.

            “And I’m police,” J-Hope said, squatting down again and throwing finger guns at everyone.

            “Perfect,” you said, already knowing this whole thing was going to be an entertaining mess.  “Group B, sit here with me while we watch Group A.”  The three boys came to sit by you, eager to watch the others who were already standing pretty close to each other.

            And it was a mess.  An entertaining mess, but still a mess.  At first the four were fumbling, not really sure what to do, and Yoongi just kept saying with the straightest face ever,

            “I’m late.  Oh no,” which you couldn’t not laugh at.  And Jungkook kept trying to avoid touching the rest of the boys and push the imaginary buttons on the elevator while making his own buzzer sounds if anyone ran into him.  Jimin and Namjoon were trying to be serious, but when Jimin turned around and said,

            “I thought I fired you, why are you still here?” and Namjoon responded by pointing at Yoongi and said,

            “I think he sabotaged the elevator to have an excuse so he could break up with his girlfriend he’s clearly not in love with because he didn’t even bring her flowers on their anniversary,” and Jungkook finally said,

            “Maybe we should call the police!” and J-Hope immediately leapt up from your side, so you had to rush to pull his hand to bring him back down and said,

            “No, not right now,” you had to make them stop because you were falling into Jin from laughing so hard.

            “ _I think Namjoon must be right,_ ” Yoongi said, pointing at him as he sat down next to you, “ _I would never visit a girlfriend without giving her flowers or something else._ ”  Jimin seemed unable to control his breathing, either, and when Jungkook pushed him as he sat down next to him, he fell into Yoongi, and Yoongi grunted when he fell against your shoulder.

            “Okay, okay, not bad,” you said, giving the first group a round of applause as you pushed Yoongi back into seating position.  “Group B’s turn!”

            “B’s group!” Tae shouted, pointing at you.

            The second group was better, even though you could not take Namjoon seriously as a bank robber because he either went from too serious to too comical.  Meanwhile Jin could only make comments about the only thing Namjoon should be robbing was his good looks, but those were impossible to steal from him.  And Tae seemed to be pretending to be an old British lady who was possible blind or deaf or at least clueless as to what was happening because she—Tae—kept going up to Jin while Namjoon was trying to rob her to ask for “more money, more money,” while J-Hope kept doing summersaults and pointing finger guns at everyone and completely failing to capture Namjoon for his crime.

            “Were we that bad?” Yoongi whispered to you when you signaled for the boys to stop by giving them a round of applause.

            “No,” you said back, your eyes wet from tears, “everyone was great.  Everyone was great!  Thank you!” you said louder to everyone.  “Please keep up your journals, and I’ll see you next time.”

            The boys all gave you quick bows from wherever they were and gave their thanks and farewells for the camera.  Once that was over, you sprawled yourself out on the floor with some of the seat pillows beneath you, trying to catch your breath.  You thought all the boys would dash off, but you saw Yoongi out of the corner of your eye grabbing a few of the pillows and throwing them down next to you before lying down on his back next to you.

            “Hi,” you said,

            “Hi,” he said back, staring up at the ceiling.  “Want to come by my studio today?”          

            “Oh, I can’t, sorry, I have my ‘date,’” you said, using your quotation marks, “with Tae.”

            “Oh yeah, oh yeah.  _What did you do last time_?”  Yoongi said, turning on his side and placing a hand under his head.

            “ _It rained.  We ran.  Talked.  Laughed._ ”  You were smiling as you explained, and while you couldn’t see, Yoongi was smiling slightly at the sight of you.  When you did turn your head to look at him, his eyes were closed, so you simply smiled and, pulling out the letter Jimin had handed you earlier, turn onto your stomach and took out a pen to work on translating it.  It took you awhile, and as you worked Yoongi managed to sleep beside you.

_Y/N,_

_I re-wrote this too many times.  And I wish it was in English.  I am sorry I am probably the worst student you have ever had.  I promise it isn’t you.  I used to be a really good student.  I’m just really stubborn and tend to not learn things well if I think I can’t.  Anyway, I want you to know a few things.  I can’t make you believe them, but they are the truth, so I hope you are able to hear me._

_You said several weeks ago that you saw a bit of yourself in me.  Since then I have seen a little of myself in you, as well.  You really, really care about other people, to the point where you will put them before yourself.  I do the same thing.  I hope you have people in your life who will not let you do that all the time.  Who will encourage you to take time for yourself and to treat yourself how you treat others.  I have been lucky for all of these years to have my family and brothers’ support.  Too often I do not have the right words to say to you.  I hope you know I want you to be happy and feel comfortable and safe, so I will do everything in my power to make sure you are.  Also, if you tell me to stop complimenting you or praising you at any point, please know I will not listen to you.  I do not mean to be distrustful.  I’m just stubborn.  And I know when I’m right.  You are smart, kind, talented, and stronger than you think you are.  Look forward to hearing this from me many more times._

            “Yoongi?” you said, elbowing the sleeping boy beside you gently in the head.  He grumbled but opened his eyes.  “How do you show Jimin you care about him?”

            “Me?  Jimin?  _Care about him?_ ” he mumbled, and when you nodded he yawned and scratched his neck.  “ _Let him hold my hand or cling to me,_ I guess?  _Tell him he’s doing a good job and compliment his hard work._ ”  You nodded, understanding.

            “ _Good, good, do that.  Do that more._ Jimin deserves it.”

            “Okay,” Yoongi said, but it sounded more like a question as he watched you sit up and gather your stuff.

            “And _if you’re tired,_ you should go sleep.  In an actual bed.  Not the floor.”

            “ _Yeah, okay,_ ” he said, but he waved you off with a smile as he shut his eyes again.

            The time with the boys all together today had almost made you forget what you were so worried about earlier.  Almost.  But when you saw Tae again later that evening, just him—plus Mina and a camera crew—it all came back to you, and you almost laughed at how fickle your emotions seemed to be.  Your last “date” had gone so well, but you were dreading this one because you knew you would have to talk about it eventually—preferably without the cameras.  Tae looked so tired again that evening, and you kicked yourself mentally for not noticing earlier during the lesson.  You realized you had been trying to avoid him, which was exactly what you had gotten upset with Yoongi about only days ago, and you kicked yourself again.

            “Tae!” you decided to practically shout when you came in the lobby, and you ran toward him dramatically, giving him a proper hug and not caring at all about some stupid rule about not initiating physical contact first or about the stupid cameras or stupid Mina—no, Mina wasn’t stupid, but she was at work, and she may have been glaring at the back of your head behind you, but you weren’t going to check.  “Are you okay?” you said, looking up at him as you unwrapped your arms from behind him.  “ _Are you okay?  You look tired._ ”

            “ _Yeah, I am,_ ” he said, fluffing the back of his hair.

            “ _Okay?  Tired_?”

            “Ah, both,” he said, smiling.  You made a promise to yourself to do your best to make sure he laughed a lot tonight, then, but also to not shy away from talking with him later.

            “Okay, _what are we doing_?”

            “Ah, _well, since we couldn’t go to the art museum last time, I brought the art museum to us._ ”  You cocked your head in confusion, but Tae led you to the same room you were in earlier that day for filming, except now, instead of the blank white walls and barren floors, dozens of printouts of famous artworks lined the walls, rugs littered the floor, chairs were clustered together around a table in the center, and several people were milling around while some sort of soft jazz played in the background.

            “Did you hire extras for our date?” you said, laughing at the surprise, but you recognized one of the “extras” as a staff member, and you laughed again, wiping your eyes.  “This is amazing.  _Amazing,_ ” you said, and Tae smiled proudly down at you.

            “ _But I need your help_ ,” Tae said seriously, so you put on a serious face, too.  “We need to name, _label, each piece and who it’s by._ ”  He led you to the table in the center of the room where a stack of paper was.

            “Oh!  Okay, okay,” you said clapping your hands lightly a few times, “ _I’m so excited.  Let’s do this._ ”  And the two of you proceeded to not act like you were in an art museum at all, instead, rushing back and forth from piece to piece with the labels and arguing playfully over ones you weren’t sure about, only seriously agreeing on ones you clearly both knew and definitely having a harder time with the titles than the painters most of the time.  You both got way too sidetracked talking about Van Gogh, because Tae couldn’t believe—but he could, at the same time, because it’s Van Gogh—that he was also your favorite painter, and you stopped to show him a replica you had painted once of Van Gogh’s sunflowers and he kept taking your phone and pulling it closer and closer to his face to get a better look at the picture.

            “ _Wow, Y/N, you can do everything!_ ” he said in awe, but you took your phone back and hurried him to finish the labels, not because you wanted to be done, because that would mean the date would end, but he had made it seem like a game, and you were out to win even if there was no time limit or prize.  When you were both done, Tae was given the answers, and you went around to check, celebrating together when you were right and either blaming each other or agreeing you were both clueless when you got one wrong.  When you were done, you both collapsed in the chairs in the middle of the room, but you didn’t even have time to ask Tae if you were done or if you had something else to do when he hopped up and pulled your hand.

            “ _Let’s go to that park!_ ” And once again you were jogging out of the building and down the sidewalk, but it wasn’t raining, and a poor camera crew raced to keep up behind you, and you were laughing again so much you couldn’t breathe properly by the time you plopped down in a swing with Tae beside you.  And as you worked to catch your breath while you barely swung back and forth, Tae reached over and grabbed your hand, and the two of you stayed connected swinging back and forth together for a few minutes, and it really felt like something out of a K-Drama.  And as you caught your breath and your heartrate calmed down, your brain reminded you of what you needed to do, so you pulled on Tae’s arm and brought yourself closer to him.

            “Hey, could we turn the cameras and stuff off now?

            “Oh, yeah,” he said, and signaled over to Mina.

            “Thank you,” you told her as she took your mics back.  “Think you got enough footage this time?”

            “Of course,” she said, smiling at you.  “Will you go straight home?”  It wasn’t really a question, it was more of a request, almost a command, so you nodded.  Tae did, too, and as he stood up from the swing—you realized how big he was, too big for the swing, certainly—he pulled a mask from his pocket to put on.  “Could you be at the studio at ten tomorrow for an interview?” Mina was saying to you while you watched Tae stand a few feet away, kicking at the dirt.

            “Sure,” you said, slightly apprehensively.

            “Thank you, we have a lot to catch up on.  Text me when you get home,” Mina said, waving you off.

            “Okay, thanks mom!” you said playfully, running to catch up with Tae who was already leaving the park.  You fell into step beside him, your short legs keeping up with his long ones easier than you thought possible.  He had been having fun earlier, you were confident, but he looked tired again, and he walked with his hands in his pockets.

            “Tae,” you said gently, but his low voice startled you.

            “ _Yoongi said I shouldn’t sleep with you anymore because it’s confusing you.  What are you confused about?_ ”

            “Oh, uh,” you said, your feet stumbling with your mouth, “well, I mean, I never said I was confused, but I guess when examining the motives behind my actions one could argue it looks wrong or misleading, like why did I want you to cuddle with me?  So, I mean, I guess I am confused, but I’ve just confused myself—”—reign it in, Y/N, stop rambling—“back home, if I’m sad, _if I’m sad,_ I don’t go to anyone, _I’m alone,_ but if someone was around, I’d want to be comforted.  _It’s nice,_ ” you said, looking around the street as you walked, “ _it’s just nice to have someone,_ but I can understand how that might be misleading.  I certainly didn’t mean that.  And wow, I feel like I’m twelve, _I’m sorry,_ ah, _I’m not confused,_ ” you finally said.  “ _Are you confused_?”

            “ _No,_ ” Tae said simply, and as you entered the courtyard of the dorm building he stopped and stared down at you.  “ _I like you, Y/N.  Don’t you like me_?”  Did you stop breathing for a moment?  Did your mouth drop open or were you biting your lip?  Did you look away from his gaze or blink several times in disbelief?  Did you really hate that word?  What did “like” mean, anyway?

            “ _Of course,_ ” you said slowly, and before Tae could react you had to add, “ _I like you all._ ”  You let your words hang between you for a moment, and you bite the inside of your mouth and swallowed hard when Tae just looked back at you.

            “ _That’s not what I mean,_ ” Tae said, his voice making you shake.

            “Shit,” you said, unable to look at him anymore, but his hand found your elbow to steady you.

            “Hey,” he said gently.  “Are you okay?”

            “ _No, no,_ ” you said, “ _no, stop.  You can’t.  I can’t.  We can’t._ I leave in two weeks,” and despite the firm grip on your arm, your voice shook.

            “I don’t want you to leave,” he said, his voice way too low and so gentle it almost broke you, and you pulled your arm away from his hold.  What could you say to that?  That you didn’t want to leave, either?  That if you weren’t confused before, you definitely were now?  That it was his own fault he was feeling whatever he was feeling?  That he was just feeling something, and it would go away soon?  It had to go away.

            “Yeah, well,” you said almost numbly, “we don’t always get what we want, Tae.  Let’s go in now.”  And even though there was sweat on your forehead, you shivered as you walked away from him.  But in the elevator, his warm body stood next to yours.  He opened the dorm door for you.  And when you realized you were crying, your face burned, and you only choked harder on a sob when he stood at your doorway and asked softly,

            “Are you okay?”  But you could only nod at him as you shut the door before curling up on top of your blankets, pulling a pillow in tightly to hug.  And despite the heat, your bed felt particularly cold that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the cutest date, fight me.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re determined to help Mina with J-Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 37**

            If there was ever a night where you temporarily became a vampire, it was that night.  You stopped crying before midnight but lay there unsuccessfully trying to go to sleep.  So you got up to shower, letting the warm water soothe you as best as anything could at the moment.  You put on your favorite black pants and an oversized t-shirt and padded down the hall for some water.  You stared at nothing while you drank it, and then went back to your room, crawled back into bed, and proceeded to cry again.  It wasn’t long before there was a knock at your door, and, sniffling, you managed a,

            “Come in?”  Your room was dark, and the hallway was darker, but you could tell it was Jin, and he only managed to ask,

            “How’d it go with Tae?” before you let yourself keep crying.  Jin flew to your side immediately, crouching down and running his head through your hair to get it out of your face.  “Y/N?  What’s wrong?”

            “Ah, Jin,” you said, trying to smile dramatically while you gripped your heart, “it hurts!”

            “Aish,” Jin muttered, standing up.  “ _I warned you, stupid._ ”

            “It’s not my fault,” you managed to gasp, but another sob choked you.

            “Aish, aish, sit up,” Jin said, going to your bathroom to get a box of tissues.  When he came back you were slumped over, your shoulders shaking as you tried to catch your breath.  “ _Here,_ ” he said, handing you the box and standing beside your bed for a moment.  You took the box limply but just placed it in-between your legs and continued to cry.

            “I—I don’t want to leave,” you said between breaths.

            “Oh.  _Is that all this is?_ ” Jin said, but you shook your head.  He scratched his head once and sighed before climbing on top of your bed behind you.  “Aish, _come here,_ ” he said gently, leaning against the bedframe and tapping on your shoulder.  You scooted back until you were between his legs, and he pulled you back into his chest by taking your arms and wrapping them around your own body.  “ _Breathe,_ ” he said, and you were, but you took bigger, slower breaths to calm down.  “ _Are you going to be sick_?”

            “ _No,_ this isn’t an attack.  _I’m just sad,_ ” you said, trying to laugh through a sob.

            “ _Why, why_?” Jin asked, placing his own arms on yours and giving them a squeeze.  You waited a moment to steady your breathing and finally stop crying again, and Jin waited patiently, his head leaning back against the bedframe.

            “Apparently I’m here because Namjoon wanted me to be, but he hasn’t explained why.  He buys me a bunch of clothes.  Yoongi tells me about the company’s intentions, so I’m like some guinea pig to see how ARMY react to seeing you with girls.  Which will not be well, I can assure you,” you said, trying to raise your finger, but Jin’s arm was in the way.  “And he wants to use my words for a song?  Everyone is so nice to me, and Jungkook puts me in a music video, and J-Hope has made me laugh every day I see him, and Jimin wrote me the sweetest letter, and Tae just told me he likes me, and I don’t know why any of this is happening, and I want to just enjoy my time and be grateful for it, but all I can think about is leaving soon and going back to my life and leaving all of this behind.”

            “Wait, what about me?” Jin said, but you could tell he was smiling.

            “You’re…you’ve been looking out for me, haven’t you?  Since day one.  Protecting me,” you said softly, looking down at his arms.

            “ _Trying to,_ ” you heard him mutter.  “But why, _why does going home mean leaving all of ‘this’ behind_?”

            “I mean, _my life,_ ” you said, sighing, “ _is very different from yours._ And I’ll never see you all again.”

“ _What?_ ” Jin said, raising his head up.  “ _Why would you say that_?”

“Well, when the summer ends, so does all the paperwork saying you have to be nice to me, so I go home, and I’m just a fan again, miles away, out of sight, out of mind.”

“Y/N,” Jin said softly, “ _you know we’re human, right_?”

“ _What?  Yes.  Why_?”

“ _Do you think we’re coldhearted enough to make a friend and then never see her again_?”

“ _No,_ ” you said, but it sounded pathetic.  “ _But…_ ”

“ _You’re not just a fan.  And it will be hard, because we’re busy, and you’ll be busy, but we’ll see each other again._ ”  You took a few more breaths, and Jin’s arm left yours to grab you a tissue.  “You believe me, right?”

“ _Yeah,_ ” you said nodding.

“So Tae is human, too.And he didn’t want, doesn’t want to hurt you.  He doesn’t want you to be sad.  You believe me, right?”  Jin said, leaning his head back again and giving your arms another squeeze.  “Do you know _better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all_?”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, though some of the words were familiar.  “Something about love?”

            “Yeah,” Jin said, going through each word and trying to explain his best in English.

            “Oh,” you said, leaning your head back until you could see his face upside down behind you.  “Better have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” Jin said, smiling down at you.  “Tae is the first.”

            “Better to have loved and lost,” you said, and Jin nodded.

            “ _He loves easily, he loves fully, he gives everything of himself; if you’re his friend, you’re his friend until the day you die or wrong him in some unforgiveable way, which would have to be pretty serious, like murdering his dog._ ”

            “Oh, god, _never,_ ” you said.

            “ _Yeah, and distance and time doesn’t matter to him.  He doesn’t see any of those things as obstacles.  He’s like the epitome of Celine Dion._ ”

            “ _What?_ ” you said, still looking upside down at him, but your head shot forward as you tried to stifle a laugh when Jin threw his arms wide and started singing, way too loudly,

            “Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that my heart does go on.”

            “Shhh, oh my god,” you said, scooting away from him and turning around so you could face him.  He was sitting there grinning like the Cheshire cat.

            “You leaving, _he’ll be sad, but_ you mean, being mean, _that will hurt him.  Sad and hurt aren’t the same thing.  If you’re hurt, you’re almost always sad.  But if you’re sad, that doesn’t mean you were hurt.  So hurt is never good.  But sad can be._ ”

            “ _Wise,_ ” you said, blowing your nose.  “But.  Well.  Okay,” you groaned.  “ _What do I do now_?”

            “Do you like him?” Jin asked, shrugging.

            “I’m not allowed to,” you said simply.

            “ _Not what I asked,_ ” he mumbled, but then he just stared at you, and you stared back.  “ _Why do you keep saying that_?”  It was your turn to shrug.

            “I’m a good girl,” you said, but then you laughed, and Jin smiled and shook his head.  “Okay, this is stupid, but I’ve learned the hard way that if someone is ‘off the market,’” you said, using quotation marks in the air, but Jin just cocked his head at you, “like, if a guy has a girlfriend, _if a guy has a girlfriend,_ I won’t like him.  _I can’t like him._ If I like a guy and then find out he has a girlfriend, I shut it down,” you moved your hand across your throat and made a dying noise.

            “You can do that?”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” you said.  “Liking isn’t love.  And even love, _love between girlfriend or boyfriend,_ that’s usually _in-love,_ so it’s all feelings, and _feelings can be killed easily._ ”

            “ _Really?_ ” Jin said dramatically, leaning toward you.

            “Well, _sometimes._ But I’m serious.  All of you are off limits.  I can’t even begin to think about liking Tae or anyone.  You’re ‘off the market.’”

            “Ah, I see,” Jin said, leaning back against the bedframe again and crossing his legs.  “ _How is that going for you?  You don’t like any of us?_ ”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, crossing your legs, too.

            “ _You’re not very good at lying, are you_?”  Jin said, smirking.

            “ _No,_ ” you swallowed.  “I’ll leave that to you.”  Jin opened his mouth but shut it and looked at your door before smiling back at you and hopping off your bed.  “Jin,” you said, watching him go, “I’m off limits, too, aren’t I?  ‘Off the market.’”

            “ _To me, you always have been.  Good night Y/N, I do hope you can sleep some,_ ” the boy said, not even turning around as he closed the door behind him.  You sat there, sniffling and staring at the door for what felt like the rest of the morning.

            For the first time, Jin’s attempts at comforting you had only left you feeling worse.

 

            Of course, when the sun rose, you somehow managed to feel even worse, a little bit, or a lot bit, like shit, and were further convinced you had somehow become a vampire.  Your whole face was swollen, and the bags under your eyes were worse than ever, and if the way you looked wasn’t indicative enough that something was wrong, the way you acted that morning probably was.  Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook—sans shirt once again—were in the kitchen eating and talking lightly when you came in in the same clothes you had slept in, dragging your backpack behind you with one hand, but you didn’t reciprocate their greetings and instead got yourself a mug and poured yourself a cup of coffee.  Behind you all three boys eyed each other, and Jin shook his head at the other two.  When you turned around, you took one sip and promptly gagged and coughed before smiling at the three of them sleepily. 

            “It’s going to be a great day,” you said, “just like how great this coffee is,” and, poking Jungkook in the side as you walked by, laughing hysterically at the way he flinched, you flung open the door to leave.  You shut it gently, though, and as you did you swear you heard Jin said,

            “ _She had a rough night…_ ”  You sighed, wondering, as you had often before, how much they told each other about their encounters with you.

 

            Mina, the Lord bless her, somehow managed to make your eye bags disappear and said nothing about your clothes when you arrived at the studio, and you couldn’t help hugging her when you got out of your seat.

            “Y/N, are you okay?” she asked as she patted your back once before removing herself from your hug.

            “Let’s go talk all about it in front of the cameras!” you said, doing that thing you hated where you threw fingers toward the door.  Mina’s eyes narrowed, but she, to her credit, didn’t push it, and led you to the interrogation room—the interview room—where you had had all of your interviews so far.  Once everything was set up, you took a sip of water and leaned slightly back in the chair to await the interrogation.  The interview.

            “So, can you give me an update on how the past couple of weeks have been?”

            “Oh yeah, it’s been awhile since I was here,” you said, looking around at the room as if you had actually missed its bare walls and sterile atmosphere.  “I’ve been busy.  The boys are really coming along in their English.  International ARMY will be very proud.  Or at least those who speak English.  Please don’t give up; I’m sure they’ll work next on learning your language,” you said, smiling at the camera.  “But, really, languages can be hard to learn for some or most people, so I’m impressed with their hard work.”

            “Who seems to have improved the most?”

            “So far I’d have to say Tae.  He’s really dedicated and interested.  He wants to learn, and that can go a long way when learning anything.  It is all about attitude and having fun with what you’re learning.  And Tae can make anything fun,” you smiled.

            “Can you tell me about how the dates went?”

            “Ah, the ‘dates,’” you said, raising your hands for the quotation marks around the word.  “ARMY, please don’t worry.  The boys only have room in their hearts for you.  And each other.  And their families.  And pets,” you said, looking around the room before smiling again.  “But anyway, the ‘dates’ were fun.  Let’s see, Namjoon and I went to an abandoned amusement park,” you said, giving two thumbs-up.   “Jungkook and I had fun filming and went bowling.  He beat me, so severely,” you said, laughing, “but that was fun.  Jimin taught me a dance, which just shows how kind and patient he is, because I can’t dance.  J-Hope and I went to an arcade, which was so fun.  I love arcades, so it was interesting to see all of the different games in Korean.  Jin and I cooked dinner, as you can’t really go wrong with food, and we went to karaoke.  I should say he sang and I laughed a lot.  Not at him,” you said, clarifying to the camera, “except at him, because he’s very…um…funny,” you said, making sure not to call him “crazy,” even if that’s how he sometimes acted.  “Let’s see, Yoongi and I talked a lot and just had a relaxing ol’ time, and Tae and I went to an art museum of sorts and played in a park like the giant children we are.  So, yeah, overall I had a great time.  Each ‘date’ was very much the guy, if that makes sense.  I mean, Jungkook wanting to take me bowling wasn’t surprising.  Or Jin cooking.  But even if we did something I wasn’t necessarily into, like dancing, they made it enjoyable.  So I’m thankful for all of the fun I had.”  You ended by nodding and smiling at Mina again.

            “If you had to pick the best date, which would it be?”

            “Do I have to?”

            “You have to,” Mina said.

            “Well, they really all were unique.  I think Namjoon’s was my favorite.  He had the unfair advantage of going first.  And he listened to what I had said I would find fun.  Plus he’s easy to talk to.  I don’t just mean because of his English; we just have a lot in common, and, yeah, he’s easy to talk to.  But all of the ‘dates’ were great, honest,” you said, hoping no one would get offended.

            “And you got to see a little more of Korea?  Anything to share from that time?”

            “Oh, yes, I went to Daegu and Busan by myself for some sightseeing.  Korea is a lot smaller than I thought it was.  Seoul makes it seem so big because everyone is all squished in here,” you said, pressing your hands together, “and it is a really big city, but the country as a whole is really small.  It was interesting to see how each city was different from each other.  I really hope more people can visit soon.  But I do suggest you learn some Korean before coming and make sure you know the cultural expectations to avoid being embarrassed or insulting anyone.”

            “Is there something in particular you would mention?” Mina said.

            “Ah, well, I’m from America, so I can really only speak to those people, and even then, America is pretty diverse.  But some of the same cultural differences here are still different from other countries.  Okay, for instance, age really matters here, and it makes me a little uncomfortable when people use formal language with me, but that’s normal and expected if someone is younger than me.  If that makes sense.  Also, there is this expectation here that your health is everyone’s business.  When I was in Busan, for instance, I was really tired, and I was in this bookshop, and this customer said something to me.  I hope I was polite back to her,” you said, laughing, “because I was so shocked.  Like, why, yes, I do look terrible because I haven’t been sleeping well.  Thank you for noticing.  Just,” you said, gesturing with your hands, “whenever you travel you should do well to look up the cultural expectations of that place to avoid being rude.  I appreciate everyone who has put up with me while I’ve been here.  I’m sure I’ve accidentally insulted some people, and I do apologize if so,” you said, bowing slightly to the camera. 

            “Can you say that in Korean?” Mina said with a smile.

            “Ah,” you said, laughing again, “ _I’m sorry, my Korean still isn’t good.  Thank you for,_ ” you bit your lip and looked at Mina, “ _kindness?  I love everyone who has helped me.  I apologize for any mistakes._ Also, _thank you to translators for your hard work,_ ” you said, giving another bow to the camera.  Mina gave you a smile, and you gave a thumbs-up for good measure.

            “Well, time for your favorite question.  At this point, which boy could you see yourself with?”

            “You know I’m not going to answer that,” you said, pressing your lips together and wiggling your eyebrows.

            “Yes, but,” Mina said.

            “I know you have to ask.  I will tell you this,” you said to the camera, putting your hand against your mouth to shield it from Mina, even though she obviously still heard you, “even though they will probably edit this out, I know the boys at least will see this.  That’s right, I know you watch these, Namjoon let it slip out once,” you said, making a playful stern face at the camera, “but, it’s not J-Hope.  His heart belongs to someone else.”  And you smiled and put your hand down to see Mina’s mouth slightly open, her eyes blinking several times.  “Oh, shoot, J-Hope,” you said, looking back at the camera, “I hope I just didn’t get you in trouble.”  Your mouth flew open too, and you looked around the room before bursting into a hysterical laugh.  You ended by placing your head in your hand and wiping away the tears that came to your eyes.

            “I’m sorry, _sorry,_ Mina, honestly.  You can just delete all of this.  We can start over.  I’ll be only serious this time.”

            “No, it’s okay,” Mina mumbled, and you almost screamed.

            “J-Hope,” you almost screamed into the camera, “I hope you’re blushing right now, because she is!”

            “Okay, okay,” Mina said, standing up and turning off the camera.  She stood behind it for a moment after she had done so, staring down at her feet.

            “Ah, Mina,” you said, your voice finally serious again.  “I really am sorry.  I don’t know what came over me.”

            “ _No,_ ” she said, shaking her head.  “I’m.  I’m grateful.  I’d never be able to say that to his face.”

            “What, are you serious?” you said, standing up and walking to the other side of the table to sit on it next to Mina.  “ _Why_?”

            “I’d get fired,” she mumbled.

            “Oh, shit, Mina, delete that right away,” you said, reaching for the camera.  “You can’t get fired because I’ve got a big mouth.”

            “ _No,_ ” she said again, holding the camera against her chest.  “No, isn’t it silly?”

            “ _What_?” you said, finding nothing about the current situation funny at all.

            “I care more about my job than him.  That’s selfish of me.”

            “What?  No.  That’s not what that means,” you said softly.

            “I’m more afraid of losing my job than of losing him.  Don’t tell me that isn’t the most selfish thing you’ve ever heard,” Mina said, her voice almost a whisper.  You sighed and scratched the back of your neck.

            “If it came down to it, would you rather be with J-Hope or work with him?”

            “Oh,” Mina said, looking up at you with a furrowed brow, “with J-Hope.  But I’m too scared to do anything about it.”

            “Well, then, now I’m going to ask you to show him that tape.  Even if you only show him.  Or have someone else show him.  You want me to push play?  Please let me help,” you said, standing up again and lacing your fingers together to beg before Mina.

            “ _No,_ ” Mina said, but there was a slight smile on her face.  “No, I can push play.  It might be the start of something great.  Or the end of my job.”

            “Great,” you said sarcastically, “I’m so glad I could help make your life so much better.”

            “ _No,_ ” Mina said again, reaching out to touch your arm.  “I…I may not get a chance to say this later—”

            “Oh, please don’t say that,” you groaned, “that makes me feel worse.”

            “But you have taught me a lot this summer.  I know it hasn’t been easy.  I know you’re afraid, too.  But you’re braver than you think.  I want to thank you for being so kind to me.  I know I’m not the easiest to get to know.  Hae reminds me all the time to smile more and—”

            “Okay,” you said, cutting her off, “I’m going to hug you now, and then we’re going to see each other tomorrow because nothing bad is going to happen.”

            “Right,” she said, smiling at you and letting you wrap your arms around her.

            “Aish, you are so tiny,” you mumbled when you pulled away.  “Okay, good luck,” you told her as you picked up your backpack to leave.  “If you do get fired,” you said, hoping she knew you were kidding, “let me know, and I’ll come over and get drunk with you and we can just talk about how much we hate J-Hope.  I’ll start trying to come up with some things,” you laughed, and Mina thankfully smiled back.  Throwing her another thumbs-up, you left the room, only to stop almost immediately when you saw all of the boys heading down the hall toward you.  It was like something out of a bad crime movie; they seemed to be moving in slow-mo, and you comically looked around before realizing there was nowhere to go but toward them, so you practically marched past them, throwing them all a sweeping wave and giving them a cheerful, drawn out,

            “ _Hello!_ ”  They all greeted you back in his own style, some simply smiling while others—Jin, especially—looked slightly concerned at your actions.  But you weren’t about to stick around to hear what they had to say about the interview you just had, so you used the last of your energy to wave and bow to every staff member you saw on your way out and then decided to let Jisung go home so you could kill time by walking home.

            You really, really tried not to stare at your phone the rest of the day, anxious to see if Mina would call or text.  But after a few hours, all was quiet, and so, the night before finally catching up to you, you tried to drift off to sleep.

            And no, you definitely weren’t wondering about the future of Mina and J-Hope or you and the boys and the rest of the summer.  “Nothing bad is going to happen.”  Maybe if you said it enough, you’d start to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mina and J-Hope's ship name is MiHope. IT'S THE CUTEST THING EVER. LET THE MIHOPE BEGIN.  
> Also, come on, Jin, just say what you mean.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are interviewed about you this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> *Plot Twist* Y/N ends up with Jisung! (I kid, but I love him).

**Day 38**

            There was something eerie about a quiet BTS dorm.  It made you feel even more so like you didn’t belong, like something wasn’t right.  Perhaps something wasn’t right today.  Perhaps the uneasy feeling you had was just leftover from the past couple of days.  Every day was a new day, sure, but one thing always led to another, and there had been a lot of things lately all leading to something.  The something seemed to linger in the air when you made your breakfast, and you kept looking over your shoulder.  You even took your plate and walked down the hall to see if anyone was actually home, but everything was still.

            “Cool,” you said to yourself, “so it’s just me.  I’m crazy.  Fantastic.”

 

            Your uneasiness only increased as the morning wore on, and you finally had to call Mina.

            “Mina, hi,” you said as soon as she picked up, “so, how are things?”

            “Good,” Mina said, but she still sounded odd to you.

            “Oh, okay, so, everything went well yesterday?  Or?”

            “Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m really busy with work right now.  Could you come by this afternoon?  We need to plan the photo shoot.”

            “Oh.  Uh, sure,” you said.  She still had a job.  “Okay, I’ll text you later then.  Can I go out today?”

            “Of course,” she said, and you could thankfully tell she was smiling.

            “Thanks mom!” you said before hanging up and texting Jisung.

 

            It felt good to get out of the dorm and hang out with Jisung.  And perhaps it was the company, or the change in atmosphere, or the distraction, or the beautiful weather, or the exercise, or the meal you shared with Jisung, but by five in the afternoon you felt lighter than you had in several days as you lay on the grass at a park with Jisung by your side.  Your arm lay partially over your face to keep the sun out of your eyes, and you only stirred slowly when you heard your phone buzz.  Rolling over with a groan, you saw that Jisung had texted you, despite being right beside you, and it seemed like he was back at it again taking pictures of you.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said genuinely, looking at your partially red face and the slight smile on your lips in the picture.  “ _I look happy._ ”

“ _Aren’t you?_ ” he asked, and you hummed, wondering how to respond.

            “ _Happiness is a leaving,_ fleeting, _fast leaving idea.  It comes.  It goes,_ ” you said, sitting up and pointing your fingers in different directions.  “So.  _Yes, I’m happy.  Right here._   _Right now._ ”

            “ _And later_?”  Jisung said, barely looking at you.

            “ _Maybe.  I don’t know,_ ” you said, looking off at nothing.

            “ _It’s foolish to think you’ll always be happy, though.  How would you know what happiness is without sadness?_ ” he said, and you stared at him.

            “I think that’s the longest sentence you’ve ever said to me,” you said, laughing.  He smiled at you, and you suddenly furrowed your brows.

            “Jisung, _are you happy_?”

            “ _Yes,_ ” he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

            “Okay,” you said, looking back at your phone.  Saving the picture, you decided to text Mina.

            “Ready for me to come by now?”

            “Sure.  I’m not done working, but we can meet.”

            “Okay, see you soon,” you sent back, and you stood up to stretch.  Jisung soon followed suit and startled you a bit when he brushed something off of your back.

            “Hey Jisung,” you said, looking up at him, “I don’t say this enough, but _thank you._ ”  He nodded, understanding, and returned to his quiet self.  “Oh, Jisung, can we get Mina food?  _Mina’s hungry,_ ” you told him when you started to drive away, so he agreed to stop and get food, and you picked up three meals like you had last time and, thanking Jisung again when you arrived, carried them proudly up to the room a staff member directed you toward when you asked where Mina was.

            The room was too dim, and she was staring intently at a computer, headphones in her ears, and clicking away at something.  She barely noticed as you entered, but when you reached the table and put the food down, she took out her earbuds and smiled tiredly at you.

            “Hey Y/N,” she said.

            “Hey Mina,” you said back, looking over her face for any signs of worry or sadness or stress, but she just looked tired.

            “Okay, let’s talk about tomorrow,” she said, pulling out some papers from seemingly nowhere.

            “Okay, but,” you tried as you sat down, but she cut you off.

            “Business first,” she said.  You weren’t surprised, so you decided to be patient and polite and appease her.  “So the photo shoot planned is to show the different stages of a relationship.”

            “ _What_?” you said, thinking you misheard her.

            “So each boy will be in one of the different stages of the relationship.”

            “ _What?_ ” you said again.  Mina cleared her throat.

            “For instance, Jungkook is the early phase.  Like after you have met once and you’re still nervous around each other and maybe you’ve started dating.”

            “Okay, sure,” you said.

            “Namjoon’s stage is marriage.”

            “Uh huh,” you said, barely comprehending what she was saying at this point.

            “Now, we, the boys understand you’ve never done anything like this.  The goal is to take pictures of them, so don’t worry.  Your face will not be in any pictures.  Maybe your head, hands, back, that kind of thing.”

            “Okay,” you said again.  “I’m sorry, I’m not really taking in what you’re saying.”

            “That’s okay.  It’s all laid out here,” she said, sending a folder across the table.  “And the photographer is aware of the situation.  And the moment you’re uncomfortable we’ll get you out of there, of course.  But the boys want you there instead of some random model or actress.”

            “Right,” you mumbled, taking the folder.  “Well, it will be another experience if nothing else.”

            “Great,” Mina said, a smile on her face.  “Jungkook will be first tomorrow.”

            “Great,” you mumbled, looking at the papers while Mina went back to typing.  For a few minutes, the only sounds were the clicking of her mouse, the turning of pages, and your breathing.  “Mina,” you finally said, closing the folder.  “What’re you working on?”

            “Interviews.”

            “Mine?” you said, trying to lean far enough to see the screen.

            “No,” she said, turning the computer screen away, “the boys’.”

            “Oh, from yesterday?

            “Yes,” she said, clicking again.

            “May I watch?”

            “No,” she said simply, and you slumped your head on your arms across the table.

            “Don’t I get to see it later?”

            “Eventually, yes.  I’m adding the subtitles.”

            “Oh!” you said, lifting your head back up and standing up to rush around to the other side of the table.  “I want to see!”

            “No,” Mina said firmly, moving the screen again, but there wasn’t much she could do with you directly behind her.  The image was paused on J-Hope, and you grinned behind Mina.

            “Why aren’t you finished yet?  Are you getting distracted?”

            “Stop,” Mina said, smacking away your hand you were pointing at her computer.  “It just takes forever.”

            “I know, I know,” you pouted, sitting in a chair next to her and leaning back with your hands behind your head.  “So I really do get to see their interviews later?”

            “Yes,” Mina said, trying to concentrate. 

            “So later could just be now,” you said slowly, raising your eyebrows at her, but she only glared at you briefly before continuing to play the video.  “Or now.  Now?  I mean, I hate to be like this, but you owe me for yesterday, right?  Not that I said all that so you would owe me, but you’re still here, so you’re not fired, right?  I mean, what did J-Hope say?”  This finally got Mina to stop working.  She pulled off her headphones and turned in her chair to look at you.  You gave her a smile hesitantly, and she sighed.  “I mean, did it go well?” you said slowly.

            “We didn’t talk,” Mina said softly.  “They watched your interview and then we had theirs.”

            “What?  Really?  He said nothing?”

            “No,” Mina said, staring at her lap.  You groaned and stood up to stand behind Mina’s chair, shaking it slightly.

            “Okay, go find him right now.  Take that food,” you said, pointing to the containers on the table, “and go eat with him and figure everything out.”

            “Y/N, I can’t, it’s not—”

            “Yes you can,” you said, grabbing her hand and dragging her to the door, “get that food.”  Your free hand was still pointing at the table, and Mina’s whole body was shaking, so slightly, but as you held her hand you could feel the tremor move through you.  You didn’t let go but reached across her to grab the food with your other hand and then struggled to open the door, pulling her through it and down the hall.  Her feet followed heavily behind you, but she didn’t say a word.  As you weaved through the hallways, Mina kept her head down, and you wondered what the other staff who saw you thought, but you didn’t have time to think about it because you were in front of J-Hope’s studio door, and you let go of Mina’s hand and placed the bag of food in it, curling her fingers around the bag so she wouldn’t drop it.  “ _You got this,_ ” you said softly, giving her shoulder a squeeze before knocking on the door and dashing back down the hallway.  You didn’t look back when you heard the door open and Mina’s voice crack.

 

            Everything leads to something else.  There was some science law about that, wasn’t there?  When one thing happens, something else is bound to happen.  And curiosity killed the cat, you knew that one.  But you still sat in Mina’s chair, put in the headphones, and slid the bar back to the beginning before pushing play.  It seems that Mina had had only one question for the boys, and you heard it every time before each answered, and each time your stomach tossed and turned.  Namjoon was sitting in a chair—maybe the chair directly across from where you were sitting now—and you heard Mina ask the question before he started talking and tried to listen and follow along with the subtitles Mina had already added,

            “ _So I just have one question today, Namjoon.  The only stipulation is you can’t answer yourself.”_

            “ _Okay,_ ” Namjoon said, smiling his reassuring smile.

            “ _Which boy do you think would be the most compatible with Y/N at this point and why_?”

            “ _Ah,_ ” Namjoon said, laughing slightly, slightly nervously, but he answered so quickly, almost alarmingly quickly, you thought.  “ _Definitely Tae.  There’s this personality test developed by Myers and Briggs, and it’s just one, and such tests are not always accurate, but I remember Y/N’s and Tae’s are the pair that are supposed to be the most compatible with each other.  They’re not exactly opposite; they share a lot in common, especially with how loyal they are to people they care about.  But they’re also very different, especially in how they communicate and show their concern, and those opposites can work really well together.  Almost like where one’s strength helps the other’s weakness and vice versa.  I think,_ ” Namjoon said, his smile waning, “ _Y/N has a side to her that Tae brings out, or could bring out, and that’s just one reason why I think they’d be good together._ ”

            You realized you had your hand on your mouth as if you were trying not to breathe and alert anyone to your presence, and you took a deep breath when you saw Jin in the chair next.  Mina asked the same question, and Jin said,

            “ _I really can’t pick myself_?”

            “ _No,_ ” Mina said, and Jin laughed.

            “ _Okay, then it has to be Namjoon,_ ” he answered confidently, but then he paused, his face looking serious, and you had trouble remembering to look at the subtitles because you couldn’t take your eyes off of his.  They looked everywhere but at Mina or the camera.  “ _Namjoon needs someone who can be calm and serious.  Who can listen and really empathize with what he’s going through.  There’s something about Y/N when she’s listening to you; the way she follows what you’re saying almost with her whole body.  I think Y/N is just what Namjoon needs, and when Namjoon told me—_ ” Jin hesitated for one second and finally looked back at Mina, “— _I mean, I’ve honestly thought that from day one that they’d be the perfect pair._ ”

            You had to pause the video and lean back in the chair, really not sure if you could handle watching the rest of these.  If you wanted to.  But you leaned forward and clicked play again, and Jungkook was sitting in the chair now, listening to Mina’s question.  He leaned forward, and his eyebrows went up a bit before he leaned back, his face serious.

            “ _Two things,_ ” he said, putting up two fingers so everyone could follow along.  “ _Y/N mentioned a few weeks ago that she would need someone who could make sure she knows she is loved.  So it would have to be someone who you wouldn’t ever doubt.  And recently she told me something about being in control.  So it would have to be someone whose love would be big and obvious and who doesn’t need to be in control all the time, someone who can go with the flow or be spontaneous.  Really the only choice is Tae, then,_ ” Jungkook said, nodding.  “ _Yep._ ”

You paused the video again, hearing the truth behind Jungkook’s surprisingly deep analysis of what would ideally work best for you.  Jungkook had said recently that he wasn’t good at listening to people, but what he just said made you really doubt if he was good at self-evaluating himself.  Shaking your head, you pushed play again, and you saw J-Hope in the chair, and you were almost shocked at how Mina’s voice didn’t change, and J-Hope looked as happy as he always did as if nothing abnormal had happened just a few minutes before the interview.  J-Hope laughed at Mina’s question, and with a smile on his face answered simply,

“ _Y/N?  Jin?  Jin maybe?  They’re both really good at taking care of others.  And even though they’re the oldest, well, Y/N is the oldest among us, they can both be really childish and silly, so that balance between serious and silly is important for any relationship._ ”

            And then you saw it, you saw J-Hope smile at Mina.  You breathed a sigh of relief and wondered how it was going down the hall before letting the video continue, and Yoongi’s serious face was on the screen where he sat moving the chair back and forth.  His brows furrowed momentarily at the question, and then he brought his hands together in front of him before he answered.  
            “ _Tae.  Y/N needs someone happy in her life.  He’s the happy guy.  The safe bet._ ”

            And that was all he said.  So you paused the video again and rewound it, playing it again.

            “ _Tae.  Y/N needs someone happy in her life.  He’s the happy guy.  The safe bet._ ”

            That was really all he said.  You leaned back in your chair, recalling the conversation you had had with Yoongi.

            “But happy guy is the safer bet,” you had said, “because if I go to the grumpy guy he may get mad or not want to be helped.  But this is too simple.  _Life isn’t this simple…_ it’s just an analogy.  _I wouldn’t._ I wouldn’t always pick the happy guy over the grumpy one.  _Do you understand_?” 

            Had he not understood?  Did he say that because he knew you would see it?  Sighing again, you played the rest of the video, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Jimin with his sweet smile on the screen.  He almost shook his head in embarrassment when Mina asked him the question, but he flashed another smile before answering.

            “ _Ah, I think Y/N and Yoongi-hyung would be good together.  Though they would never, ever acknowledge it; they’d deny it completely.  ‘He’s too good for me,’ ‘I’m not good enough for her.’  They would say such things.  Yoongi is good at being subtle; so good sometimes you may miss his intentions or even his actions.  But he really cares about others more than himself.  And so does Y/N.  Just the other day Yoongi randomly held my hand during practice, and when I asked him what he was doing he said that Y/N said to do it.  Practice was really hard that day, so I was glad to be encouraged by Yoongi and Y/N.  There’s also a deepness to Yoongi,_ ” Jimin continued, his eyes shining, “ _that few people can understand.  It makes him very lonely sometimes.  I think Y/N could help with that.  She’s really amazing,_ ” he said, laughing again.

            Your heart, by this point, felt like bursting as you heard Jimin’s praise and how he described Yoongi, and it beat even faster when the last boy came on the screen to answer the question.

            “ _Namjoon-hyung,_ ” Tae said, adjusting the glasses on his face.  “ _They’ve been able to communicate from day one.  I don’t just mean language-wise.  There seemed to be a connection between the two of them from the beginning that everyone else had to work to make.  They share a lot of the same interests, like reading and questioning everything and enjoying being in charge,_ ” he said, smiling.  “ _No, they’re both very humble and listen well and want to learn about people and things.  So they make a very good team, and working well together is important for any relationship.  So, yes, Namjoon._ ”

            The video ended.

            And you put your hands on your face, emitting a silent scream.

            Before Mina could get back and catch you in the act, you put the headphones back, stuffed the folder for tomorrow in your bag, and quickly left the room, your heart and mind racing.

 

            But you only made it as far as down the next hallway.

            And you stood in front of Yoongi’s studio.

            But you couldn’t knock.

            So you sat down against the wall opposite his door.

            And you just stared at it, wondering what to do and what to say and who to say it to and when to say it and how to say it, because what you said, whoever you said it to, however you said it, whenever you said it would be something, which would mean something would have to follow it.

            And the first something that startled you was when his door opened.  And you watched as he shut his door and turn around, only to see you sitting on the ground.  He blinked once to process what he saw before he squatted down in front of you, a concerned look on his face.

            “Y/N?  _What’s wrong?_ ”

            “ _Tae said he likes me?_ And I just watched your interview from yesterday?” you said in a rush.  Yoongi’s eyes started, just barely, but he was so close to you that you couldn’t have missed it.  “Oh, _were you going home_?”  You stopped yourself, finally looking at him.  He looked so tired.

            “ _No, bathroom,_ ” he said.

            “Oh, go, _go,_ I’ll wait here,” you said, waving him off.

            “ _But.  Here?_ ”  You nodded, and he pushed his hands down on his thighs to stand back up.  “Okay, _I’ll be right back._ ”  And he was, really, in what seemed like record time, and when he stood in front of you, his hand reaching down to you, you took it and stood up and followed him sluggishly into his studio.  He sat in his chair and you sat on his couch, and even though it was too dim in his studio you could make out the way his shoulders were sagging and the way his lips were drooping. 

            “Yoongi,” you said, and he looked across the room at you, playing with his bracelets, “ _are you okay_?

            “ _Me?  Yeah, why_?”  He cocked his head at you, and you shook yours.  “What did, did you want to talk?”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, looking around at his shelves.  “Can I just sit here?  _Sit and think_?”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” Yoongi smiled, “ _that’s mostly what this room is used for._ ”

            “ _Thanks,_ ” you said, smiling back at him, and he gave you a small nod before turning around to plug his headphones back in and get back to work.

            “It’s just,” he said a few minutes later, moving his headphones so one ear was free—no notes sounded right, and no amount of reordering them seemed to work.  He turned around in his chair with a sigh, but he stopped when he saw you, your body collapsed on the couch, your eyes shut and your breathing already slow and deep.  He smiled once at the sight of you and then turned around to finish his work.

            Something would lead to something else.  It always did.  But it wasn’t time for something to happen yet.  So nothing did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y/N's always falling asleep at the worst times. You can blame me for that. It's cool.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your photoshoot with Jungkook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 39**

            “ _Maybe if I try this…no, damn it, that doesn’t sound good, either.  None of this does…What if…_ ”  Someone was mumbling almost incoherently, half whispering, the sound strained and staccato.  His voice only manifested completely when you opened your eyes and blinked several times in the dim light.

            “Yoongi?”

            “ _Yeah?_ ”  His voice was still soft, but distant, and it didn’t turn to face you.  You stood up quietly and walked toward him, stopping behind his chair and looking down at the top of his hair.  You watched his fingers move the mouse and work on the keyboard, each action purposeful and controlled with a hint of hesitation and doubt.  You raised your own fingers hesitantly, too, before placing your hand on his head.  His body stilled momentarily before he continued to work, and you caressed his head once.

            “ _You should go to sleep,_ ” you said.

            “Are you telling me what to do?” Yoongi said, and though you couldn’t see his face, you heard the smirk in his question.

            “ _Maybe,_ ” you said, rubbing his head again.

            “ _You should go to sleep,_ ” he muttered, continuing to click away.

            “ _You want me_ to leave?”

            “ _I didn’t say that,_ ” Yoongi said, moving his head back and forth once under your hand.  “ _I want you to sleep._ ”

            “Okay,” you said, patting his head once and shuffling back to the couch.  You fell back asleep with a smile on your face at Yoongi’s grumblings.

 

            And you woke up hours later with a smile on your face when you saw a note on the table in front of you.

            _Went home to sleep.  But not because you said to.  Someone was on my couch._

And you hoped no one would be awake in the dorm to judge or question where you had been, because you were pretty positive someone would’ve checked in your room and therefore knew you hadn’t been home all night.  No one had sent any texts asking about your whereabouts, so you even wondered if no news was good news—did they trust you and were confident you’d let them know where you were if you thought it necessary?—or bad news—did they not really care where you were, or had Yoongi told them where you were?  You weren’t sure why the latter option sounded bad, but that uneasy feeling you had the other day in the dorm returned when you opened the door to see Jin at the kitchen island.

            “ _Good morning,_ ” you said, helping yourself to a bite of his breakfast.

            “ _Morning,_ ” he said, his eyes narrowing at you.  “ _Where did you go so early_?”

            “Ah, _no,_ I was at Yoongi’s studio,” you said, pouring yourself a glass of water and leaning on the island across from Jin.  “ _I fell asleep._ ”

            “But,” Jin said, looking down the hallway toward your room, “Yoongi’s here.”

            “Oh, _yeah, yesterday.  Fell asleep.  Woke up today.  Yoongi was gone._ ”

            “ _So he left you in his studio?_ ”  You nodded and stole another bite of his food, but he pushed his plate toward you for you to finish, which almost robbed some of the fun of it from you.  “ _He must really trust you._ ”  You hummed inquisitively.

            “ _Trust?  I hope so.  Don’t you?  Trust me?_ ”

            “ _Sure,_ ” Jin said, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms across and over his body.

            “That didn’t sound very convincing,” you grumbled.  “Aren’t we friends?  _We’re friends_?”

            “Sure,” Jin said, smiling at you.

            “And friends tell each other things.  And don’t lie to each other.  Friends trust each other,” you said, watching his face closely.  He nodded slowly.  “ _Yesterday, no,_ two days ago, wait, well, whenever, you said _I’d be good for Namjoon._ ”

            “ _How—_ ” Jin started, but then he shut his mouth.

            “ _I saw the video.  Anyway,_ before you said that, you were going to say something that Namjoon told you.  _Namjoon said something,_ but you didn’t say what it was,” you said, sighing at your Korean.  Jin cocked his head at you.

            “ _I don’t remember that,_ ” he said, and you sighed internally at the way his eyes left your face when he answered.

            “Maybe Mina can show you the video to help you remember,” you said, but Jin changed the subject as you put your—what was once his—dish in the sink.

            “ _Are you ready for pictures today?_ ”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, coming around to lean on the counter next to him.  He was so tall even sitting down, you suddenly felt very small.  “I’ve never done anything like it.  And even if it’s mostly about you, you guys, I know I’m going to be nervous and maybe freak out.  _I’m nervous._ ”

            “ _Do you want me to be there?_ ”

            “ _What_?” you said, looking at him. 

            “ _In case you have an attack.  I mean, unless my beauty would distract you or make you more nervous,_ ” Jin said, stroking his own face.

            “Wow,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter, “I thought we were having a moment, and you just—”  His hand had found your wrist, and you looked down at it before furrowing your brows at him.

            “Do you want me, _want me there_?” he said, his voice almost as soft as the pressure on your wrist.

            “ _It’s okay,_ ” you said, “you might make Jungkook nervous.”  You tried smiling at him, and he swept his thumb across your wrist once before letting go.

            “ _I do make him nervous.  He tries so hard to outdo me, but I’ll always be stronger and more handsome._ ”

            “Hey, Jin,” you said, taking the tips of his fingers into your hand.  He looked down for a moment before looking back at your face with a forced smile.  “ _Thank you.  I’ll call if I need to._ But you can’t always protect me.  _You should…I want you to protect you._ ”

            “Oh, Y/N,” Jin said, moving his fingers from your hand.   “ _Don’t you remember?  No one can hurt me.  I mean, look at me._ ”  And he closed his eyes and smiled, his hands framing his face.  While his eyes were closed you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around him and press your face into his chest.

            “Okay Jin,” you said, your voice muffled by his shirt, “ _whatever you say._ ”  And you pulled away before he could say anything else so you would get ready for the day.

 

            While Jin’s concern was touching, you honestly weren’t worried about shooting with Jungkook.  You were nervous about doing a photo shoot because it was just another new experience, but you felt like you and Jungkook had been communicating well and more lately, and you imagined today’s shoot would be light-hearted and fun more than anything else.

            The only thing that made you nervous when you arrived with Jisung on set was that Mina wasn’t around, but you took the outfit you were given to change into and everything fit and was so comfortable that you felt a little better already.  You almost felt cute as you put the lightweight yellow bomber jacket with bumblebees on it on over a plain white shirt and denim shorts.  And when you came back to Jungkook to get your makeup on, you were all smiles as you stuffed your hands in the jacket’s pockets.

            “Oh my god,” you said. “I love this jacket.  I want this jacket.”      

            “Keep it,” Jungkook said while a staff member finished doing his makeup.

            “ _What?  Really?_ ”

            “ _Sure,_ _I’ll make sure you get it._ ”  You practically squealed as you bounced up and down and whipped your arms back and forth while your hands were still in the pockets.

            “ _Thank you!_ ”  Jungkook laughed at you, but you couldn’t stop smiling as a precious staff member worked to make your face acceptable; even though it wouldn’t be in any official pictures, there were always behind-the-scenes pictures to take. 

            When you were finally ready, you began to notice that the set was full of flowers, and after you were introduced to the photographer for the day and he explained the concept, you looked again at your jacket before smiling like an idiot at Jungkook.

            “ _Flowers,_ ” you said, pointing at them, “ _bees,_ ” you said, pointing at your jacket.  “Bees are attracted to flowers.  You’ll hold the flowers, and I’ll be the bee.  Which would mean I’m attracted to you.  _No_.  Well, anyway, bees and flowers.  _I love it.  It’s cute._ ”  Jungkook tried not to laugh at you but nodded and gave you a thumbs-up.  As expected, the majority of the shoot went smoothly.  You did have to control yourself from acting too silly because you kept making Jungkook laugh when he was supposed to look serious because you couldn’t not laugh at his serious face, but when he sternly told you to stop once you did immediately and instead just looked away from him even if he was standing right next to you because where your face was pointed didn’t matter.  You stood by him for a few shots, and your arms barely touched, and at the direction of the photographer he barely grabbed your hand, even though he immediately turned to you and said,

            “ _Sorry, I know you probably hate this._ ”

            “ _What?  Why_?” you said, looking at him.

            “ _You’re not in control,_ ” he said, a smirk on his face.  You rolled your eyes at him and squeezed his hand hard, causing him to wince before smiling back at the camera.

            “I could be in control if I wanted to be,” you said quietly, hoping no one else could hear over the white noise in the room.  “ _I could be.  But you’re the,_ the expert here, so _you’re in control._ ”  He gave your hand a squeeze at that, but it wasn’t forceful, and soon the photographer told him to go to get into another pose.  Every so often Jungkook would go and check the monitor, and you never followed him until he finally called you over one time, and, reluctantly, you went to see what he was so excited about.  It was probably your favorite picture of the day.  Jungkook had been sitting down, and you had been behind him on your knees.  He was holding a bouquet of purple lilacs that framed his face well.  The picture was shot in such a way that the only part of you that was in the picture was your arms that were draped over Jungkook’s shoulders, so the yellow jacket looked like it was hugging Jungkook.  Your hands were hidden behind his that were holding the flowers, and he was looking at the camera with an innocent but excited look.  The frame of the picture and the colors really complimented each other well, and you found yourself smiling and giving Jungkook’s arm a squeeze.

            “ARMY will love it,” you said.  “ _You look good._ ”  Jungkook pulled out his phone and took a picture of the screen which he immediately sent to you.  When you got out your phone to check, you saw several pictures from Jisung, and you looked up to see him practically standing in the corner.  When he looked up at you, you smiled and waved, and he did the same.  “Jisung’s really talented,” you said, elbowing Jungkook to get his attention so you could show him the pictures.

            “ _Wow, yeah, you look good._ ” 

            “Pft,” you said, but as Jungkook talked to the photographer you looked back at yourself, and the complete version of the one on the monitor, the picture of you behind Jungkook smiling down at him, did look good.  You did look good.  You smiled again and went back to focusing on making sure Jungkook looked his best today.

 

            You were relieved when the photographer thanked you both for working so well and efficiently, and you thanked him and all of the staff when the shot was over.  Jungkook joined you, giving little bows to everyone present before waving you out of the building.

            “ _Let’s go to my studio.  I want to show you the music video._ ”

            “ _It’s finished_?” you asked, walking quickly to keep up with Jungkook’s long legs.

            “ _Almost, almost, but I want you to see._ ”

            “Okay, okay,” you said, looking around the street.  “Shouldn’t we drive?”

            “ _No, it’s okay,_ ” he said, pulling up his hoodie and walking faster.

            “Ya,” you said, trying to keep up.  And you said it again after you had crossed two streets, but this time you added, “Jungkook, _I think,_ I think someone’s following us.”  His head turned slightly, but only to look back at you.  He slowed down slightly, and you breathed a sigh of relief.  “Across the street.  _The right._ ”  He didn’t even bother to look to confirm or stave off your concern, he simply lowered his head closer to yours and said,

            “ _You okay to run_?”

            “ _Run?_ Jungkook, I—” but that mischievous smile was on Jungkook’s lips, and you barely had time to blink before you were chasing him down the street and around the corners, and you felt like you didn’t breathe until you were in the studio, Jungkook bouncing a little and looking out of the glass doors to see if anyone had actually followed them.  “Do you,” you said, trying to catch your breath.  “You.  You need to get your adrenaline fixes elsewhere.”  He probably didn’t understand what you said, but he smiled anyway, and you resisted the urge to smack him, so you made faces instead at his back as you followed him down to his studio.  Feeling too warm from the spontaneous run, you peeled off your jacket and sat down in Jungkook’s chair before he could as he turned on his computer.  You took his chair for a spin while you waited, and soon he grabbed the top of it and pulled it, and you, back over to the desk to face the screen.  And then he sat on your lap, resulting in you letting out a huge breath.

            “Oh my god, you’re so heavy,” you said, pushing on his back, but he didn’t move except to click his mouse and pull up a video.  “Jungkook,” you groaned.

            “Shh, shh, watch,” he said, pressing play.  So you watched and felt your breath still as you did, impressed by the way Jungkook had captured the other boys so well.  The house looked even more haunting than it had in person, and the garden was a combination of beautiful and eerie.  You loved the way he had cut the dancing sequences so flawlessly; it was almost hard to tell which boy was dancing with you.  And, not surprisingly, the emotion on each boy’s face was a perfect mixture of sadness and expectation, and even though it was only halfway done, you thought it was a perfect work of art, and you clapped enthusiastically when the screen went black.

            “ _Do you like it_?”  Jungkook said, turning around partially on your legs to see you smiling and nodding.

            “ _It’s perfect._ I also like my legs, so _please get up,_ ” you said, pushing him again, and you breathed exaggeratedly when he got up.  You rolled the chair away from him so he wouldn’t be tempted to sit again and leaned back, watching him squat before his computer and start working on finishing the video, clearly not bothered about not having a chair.  “Hey Jungkook, you really think, _me and Tae…we’d be good_?”  Jungkook hummed and nodded.  “But I’m so.  _Not happy._   And he’s so.  _Happy._ ”  You heard Jungkook chuckle.

            “ _Does it make you feel out of control_?” Jungkook asked calmly.

            “ _Does what_?” you said, pulling your feet into his chair.

            “Tae, saying to you, telling you _he likes you_?”

            “Oh,” you said, staring at the back of Jungkook’s head, slightly awed at how accurate his assessment of you was.  “Oh,” you said again when he turned around on his heels to look at you.  “I think.  _I think you’re right._   _Yes,_ that’s part of it.  It must be.  _Everything,_ this whole situation,” you waved your hands around the room, “feels out of my control.  _Yeah, that must be it._ ”  Jungkook simply nodded again and turned back around.  You sat there lost in thinking about what he had just said before you got up and pushed his chair over to him gently.  “Jungkook,” you said as he stretched his legs before sitting down, “ _thank you for today.  I had a lot of fun._ ”

            “ _Me too.  Thanks Y/N._ ”

            “ _I’m going to go,_ ” you said, throwing your fingers like an idiot toward his door, and he gave you a thumbs-up before you left.  As you slowly put your jacket back on in the hallway, you contemplated what Jin had said earlier that morning, and you began to wonder if he too was simply trying to control something he had no control over.  That perhaps both of you had been trying to stop the same derailed train that you both in fact were on.  He told you he couldn’t get hurt.  And you had told him you didn’t like any of them.  You just wondered who would stop lying to themselves first before the train crashed and became a twisted, burning mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this made me just love Jungkook more and more.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your photoshoot with Tae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 40**

           One word, or one sentence, had the power to change something forever.  Most of the time relationships were built around or torn down by one to five words.  “I like you,” “I love you,” “Will you marry me?”—“yes”…“no”—“I want a divorce,” “I can’t do this anymore,” “It’s not you,” “I’m not ready to date,” “Let’s just be friends,” etc., etc., and in a world where everyone wants to be, needs to be, loved and everyone deep down, whether they admit it to themselves or not, hates to be rejected, words would have to be said before any connections could be made.  But words could also stop a connection from ever happening or cause a connection to cease to exist.  You couldn’t even count the times you had heard from friends’ stories of someone finally admitting to a friend that they like them, only to have that friend start to distance themselves.  Was it because the feeling wasn’t reciprocated?  Was it because they didn’t feel the same, so they thought the best option was to push that person away, as if that wouldn’t hurt also?  Was it because they were really too afraid to just tell the person they didn’t feel the same?  Whatever the reason—or reasons, because humans were complicated and messy and full of purposeful and unintentional motives behind every action—once those words were spoken—“I like you”—something was going to change.

           And the uneasiness you had been feeling for days finally made sense when you woke up and realized you would be taking pictures with Tae today.  For three days you had just avoided addressing the topic with Tae—or maybe he was avoiding you—and while you were confused and worried about what to say or what he was thinking, you knew deep down that you would only feel worse if you avoided it much longer, and while it might hurt you or him, you wanted to talk, you needed to talk to him.

           So you woke up determined to do so, but he was still asleep, so you exercised and got ready for the day, but he hadn’t come out of his room, so you decided to wait in the living room for him to come out, acknowledging that it was a bit of a creeper thing to do, and you watched as one boy and then another came out of his room to make coffee or breakfast, but still there was no Tae.

           “Namjoon,” you whispered when you finally saw him come into the kitchen.  He looked around the room and blinked a few times before he registered you sitting on the couch.  “Do you know if Tae’s sick?” you said, getting up to come stand near him as he made his coffee.

           “No?  Why?”

           “Just wondered where he was.”

           “He has his photo shoot this morning,” Namjoon said as he poured himself a cup.  You stared at him for a moment, and he put his cup down before slowly turning toward you.  “Why are you here?”

           “Where am I supposed to be?” The way Namjoon’s brows furrowed made you panic slightly. 

           “With Tae.”

           “Ah, Mina didn’t tell me.  No one told me,” you said quickly, and you whipped out your phone to see if you had missed any texts or calls, but there was nothing.

           “Aish,” Namjoon said, bringing up his own phone, “ _I knew something like this would h_ _appen,_ ” he muttered to himself as he put the phone to his ear and walked out of the room.  You watched him walk back down his hallway and looked pleadingly at Jimin who was giving you a wary smile from a stool.

            “Don’t worry,” Jimin said gently, “ _it’s not your fault._ ”  It was like he knew exactly what you were thinking, because you felt like it was definitely your fault, and you rushed to your room to find the folder Mina had given you about the photographs, but when you brought it back to the kitchen and threw it on the island before you started to dig through the papers like a maniac, you couldn’t find anything specific about a time or place.  “Hey,” Jimin said again, his hand grabbing the top of yours that was hurriedly shifting through the papers, “really, it’s okay.  _Namjoon will get it worked out._ ”

            “But Jimin, he’s going to think, Tae will think, _Tae will think_ , _I don’t want,_ ” you fumbled, freaking out.

            “Y/N, _really, don’t worry,_ _Tae will understand_ ,” Jimin reassured you, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles once.  You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to try to calm yourself down, but you still groaned.  When you opened your eyes again, Jimin was smiling at you, so you smiled back.

            “Jimin,” you said softly, “he’s going to hate me.”

            “ _What?  Why_?”  Jimin’s hand on your squeezed softly, and you moved your arm so your hands were swinging in-between the two of you.

            “I can’t tell him what he wants to hear.  _What he wants, I can’t give._ ”  Jimin opened his mouth, but Namjoon entered the kitchen again, so you pulled your hand out of Jimin’s to rush toward him.

            “Tae said there’s a park?” Namjoon said, and you nodded your head.  “And to go there.  It’s close by apparently?”

            “Yeah,” you said, turning back to clean up the mess you had made on the papers.

            “And he said there’s a bag of clothes for you in his room?”

            “His…what?”

            “By his bed.  He said it’s obvious,” Namjoon said, going back to finish pouring his coffee.

            “Ah, okay,” you mumbled, and you gave Jimin a small smile before walking back down the hall.  You stopped in front Tae and Yoongi’s door and waited for a moment, really hoping no one was inside, before you knocked.  Too quietly, probably, so you knocked again.  After a third time, you figured you had given ample enough warning and slowly opened the door.  It was almost completely dark in the room, but your eyes adjusted enough so you could make out a small package near Tae’s bed.  As you strode toward it, your footsteps became softer and slower when you noticed a lump in Yoongi’s bed.  You reached down gently to pick up the bag, thankful it didn’t crinkle or make too much noise, and started to tiptoe out of the room.  Before you left, though, you looked back at Yoongi, his mouth slightly open as he slept, and you couldn’t help but smile.  When you left the room, you left the door slightly ajar and headed to your room to change.  The shorts with a floral pattern weren’t exactly your style, but they were comfortable, and the thin navy blue sweater was something you would have picked out.  There was also a maroon beanie which you immediately loved, even though you thought the outfit as a whole looked more like fall than summer.  Once you had put on your own boots and done your makeup to the best of your ability, you scribbled a quick note on a card and walked quietly back into Tae and Yoongi’s room.  You stopped close enough to Yoongi’s bed to make out his face clearly—it looked tired even as he slept—before you placed the note beside his bed on his table.

            _There’s some guy in your bed._

            Smiling triumphantly, you nodded to yourself before hurrying out, being careful to close the door gently behind you.  You gave a quick wave to Namjoon and Jimin on your way out, but as you opened the front door, Jimin stopped you.

            “Y/N,” he said, standing up from his stool, “ _Tae knows what he wants.  You may not be able to give it to him, true, but don’t ever assume he’ll hate you.  It’s basically impossible for him to hate anything.  He’s,_ ” Jimin paused, looking over at Namjoon, who was watching him, “ _he’s been wanting to talk to you.  And he needs, he appreciates being listened to._ ”  You looked from Jimin to Namjoon, your arm limp on the doorknob.

            “Tae likes you, so hear him out,” Namjoon said, waving his free hand in the air once.  You knew enough to know what wasn’t exactly what Jimin had said, so you looked back and forth between the two for a minute, biting your lip.

            “So, everyone knows?” you said, pointing a finger at Namjoon.  He shrugged and nodded.  You scoffed to yourself and looked down at the floor.  Your mouth opened several times as you tried to decide what to say.  “I really want to run away,” you said, looking back at Namjoon, and then you looked up at the ceiling, realizing with great annoyance that your eyes were watering.  “Because I feel like I’m being made to make a decision I can’t make.  Or I shouldn’t be asked to make.  But I’ve run away enough from you all this summer,” you said, chuckling slightly, and you took a deep breath when you saw Namjoon’s reassuring and Jimin’s comforting smiles.  “So I am going to run right now, but only because Tae is waiting for me.  Jimin,” you said, and the boy’s smile widened, “ _I’ll do my best.  Thank you for_ being Tae’s friend.  _You’re a good friend._ ”  He nodded, and you gave them both another wave before leaving the dorm.  As soon as you closed the door, you could still hear Jimin’s voice,

            “ _Why did you say it like that, hyung_?” You held your breath, knowing you shouldn’t eavesdrop, knowing that you were already over an hour late, but you also couldn’t move.  But when you heard Namjoon say dismissively,

            “ _Let’s get ready for the day,_ ” your shoulders slumped as you hurried to the elevator.

 

            You practically did almost all the way to the park, but when you got close you slowed down so you could catch your breath, and you almost completely stilled when you were at the entrance, noticing how many people were standing or sitting around with various forms of equipment, the knot in your stomach only tightening.  You did your best to not hang your head, but when you came close enough for everyone to notice you, you bowed deeply to everyone, apologizing profusely for making them all wait.

            “ _It’s my fault, everyone, leave Y/N alone,_ ” Tae’s deep voice found you, making you stop immediately.  No one had even said anything, but perhaps they had before you arrived, or perhaps their looks were enough, or perhaps it really was your fault but Tae didn’t want you to feel bad; whatever the case, he waved you over, and you went to go sit in the swing next to him.  “I’m sorry, _it really was my fault.  But you’re here now,_ ” Tae said, smiling at you, and you kicked at the dirt and rocked back and forth in the swing a few times before smiling back at him.  He stuck his hand out to you, and you took it tentatively, but Tae didn’t seem to mind.  In fact, during the shoot he seemed completely normal, and you wondered if it was just because he was so used to doing photo shoots.  He did exactly what the photographer asked, and whenever the photographer went to the monitor or left for a minute he would turn to you and asked,

            “Are you okay?”  And you nodded, because everything was fine.  Everything felt right.  And for one pose Tae came in front of your swing and grabbed onto its chains while the photographer squatted behind you, and you looked up at him, and he smiled down at you, but his smile also faded into a serious look that made you look down, because you weren’t sure if he was acting anymore, or if his eyes really were searching your body for something.  He must have noticed, too, because his low voice whispered,

            “Are you okay?” again, and when you nodded the air changed again as he grabbed the beanie off of your head and stuck it on his.

            “Hey!” you said, reaching for it, but he pushed on the chains, so you held on so you wouldn’t fall off, and then proceeded to try to tame your hat-hair.  Tae laughed and started to do it for you, so you slumped slightly and resumed hanging onto the swing’s chains.

            “ _It goes with my outfit, too,_ ” he said when he was done fixing your hair, sweeping a hand over his body.  You had to nod in agreement, and apart for your hair maybe looking bad, you didn’t really care, as your head had been getting hot.  When the photographer went to the monitors for a moment, Tae reached his hand down to you, and you placed yours in his and let him lead you over to where there was a blanket on the grass.  He sat down and patted the spot behind him, so you sat down, too, watching as the staff scurried around for the next shots.

            “Here,” Tae said, handing you a water.  You took it with a nod and drank it greedily, letting out a content sigh when done.

            “So this park, _park,_ ” you said, looking around, and Tae watched and listened intently, “it’s _ours now, right_?”

            “ _Oh, yes,_ ” Tae said seriously, “ _I bought it for you._ ”  You laughed but then also looked at him seriously.

            “Wait.  You’re, _you’re joking, right_?”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” he said, smiling back, “ _but I can buy it if you want._ ”

            “That’s okay,” you said, pointing at the hat, “ _buy me that_.”

            “This?” he said, taking the hat off and looking at it.  “ _This probably cost 10,000won._ ”

            “Ten dollars?” you said.  “ _Never mind, too expensive._ ”  Tae laughed and stuck the hat back on his head.  You waited a few moments, enjoying the feeling in the air but knowing you had to say something, so as he leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out in front of him, you took a deep breath and said, “ _You said Namjoon and I have a connection._   In the video.  _Your interview.  What did you mean_?”  Tae didn’t look at you as he shrugged.

            “ _There are just some people who seem to understand each other immediately.  You were, are, clearly more comfortable around him than the rest of us_.  You’re comfortable.  With Namjoon.”

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said slowly, “ _but I am with you, too._ ”

            “ _Really?  Even after?_ ” Tae said, turning his head to look at you.  You only held his gaze for a second, maybe even less, before you looked at the photographer across the park.

            “If that’s what you meant, that _the connection_ is being comfortable with Namjoon, then, Tae, _I feel, I’ve felt the most comfortable with you.  So, is connection comfort?_ ”

            “ _Partly. But it’s more than that._ ”

            “ _How so_?” you said, looking back at Tae, but he was now watching the photographer coming closer, and he shrugged at your question.

            “I don’t know, Y/N.  _I can’t explain it well.  You and Namjoon just have a connection._ ”

            “Don’t we?  _You and me?  Have a connection?_ ”

            “ _Well,_ I tried.  _I tried to make one with you,_ ” Tae said, and then he stood up and walked away to meet the photographer, and you watched him talking to him, but you didn’t hear anything, because all you could hear was your heart breaking, and your eyes started to water again, and you jabbed your fingers in your eyes to make them stop, and you cursed yourself for saying anything, because everything had been going so well, and now you were afraid Tae had only been acting all morning and actually wanted nothing to do with you, and you tried to fan and pat your face before he came back so everything looked fine.  But when he came back to the blanket he sat down stiffly, and his voice was low as he asked yet again,

            “Are you okay?”

            “ _Honestly_?” you said, looking at him, “ _No.  But let’s finish this_.”  He nodded slowly at you, and you looked up to pay attention to the photographer, and you understood enough or could follow Tae’s lead well enough to know what do.  At first you lay side-by-side, not close at all, both looking up, though as your face wasn’t needed you hid from the sun by casting your arm over it.  You scooted an inch closer next and held each other’s hands, and again you didn’t really notice what Tae had to do as you shaded your face.  The photographer then asked you to sit up, and you realized he wanted Tae to lay in your lap, so you nodded and gave a thumbs-up and leaned back on your hands while Tae placed his head on your bare legs.  He smiled up at you briefly before looking back to the camera, and you watched him work, trying not to move your legs at all, even when his hair tickled them if his head moved.  At one point you saw a bead of sweat forming on the side of Tae’s face, and you leaned forward to dab it off with the side of your hand.  His eyes shifted toward you, and you withdrew your hand, apologizing, but the photographer said something about doing it again, so you did, and you peeled the beanie off of his head and moved his hair out of his forehead and tucked it behind his ear while he smiled up at you, his eyes slightly narrow.  You finally wiggled your legs, lifting them up so his head and then his body came up, and he turned around in a seated position to face you.  You looked at him for just a moment before grinning and sticking the beanie back on his head, pulling it down almost all the way to his eyes.

            “Hey!” he said, flinging his arms wildly, but you just laughed and scooted back, almost all the way into the photographer, who you had forgotten was there.

            “ _Sorry!_ ” you said, bowing from your waist.

            “ _No, it’s okay,_ ” he said, chuckling, “ _you two have great chemistry._ ”

            “Ah, _thank you,_ ” you said, bowing again, and you watched as he left once again to check the monitors.  You could feel Tae watching you, so you laid down next to him, your head close to his thigh.

            “Tae,” you said, looking up at him, “ _you and me, we have a connection, too._   _I want to with you,_ to have a connection.”  He hummed in response, which wasn’t enough of a confirmation or a rejection for you, so you lifted your right arm up wearily toward his face, and he smiled briefly before grabbing your hand and curling all of your fingers but your index finger, and he leaned forward until this was pressed against his forehead.  You shook your head slightly as he looked down seriously at you, and he leaned forward so your arm began to fold until the back of your hand was hitting your own nose, so the only thing separating his face from yours was your own hand, and as he stared intensely at you, you couldn’t help but laugh through your nose.  “ _What are you doing_?” you asked, your mouth muffled by your hand.

            “ _Connecting,_ ” he said, his voice low and grave.  And you laughed again, but this faded into a smile, and then into trying to swallow as you felt one of this hands rest on your left arm that was next to his leg.  His eyes were darting back and forth across your face, and you struggled to breathe one, two, three times before you pressed lightly on his forehead.  He took the hint and moved back, letting your hand stay behind.

            “ _Connected_?” he said, pointing his own index finger at you.

            “ _Yeah,_ ” you said, but it was softer than you intended.  Of course you were connected.  We weren’t exactly sure how, but you were, and as you eyed the monitors from behind Tae, smiling at how much he glowed, and you thanked the staff and everyone profusely for a wonderful morning, and Tae gave you a giant hug before he left to go practice, you felt content enough with that knowledge.

 

            And yet, a lingering sense of uneasiness followed you home and stuck around as you worked at your desk the rest of the day.  Finally, when the evening arrived and you helped Jin and Jungkook make dinner, you decided to text Mina.

            “Hey Mina, hope you’re well.  So I’m not offended, but you never told me what happened the other night.”  You put your phone down to shoo Jungkook away and chop vegetables with Jin until it buzzed.

            “I’m actually sick.  How have the photoshoots gone?”

            “Sick??  Are you in the hospital?  And that must be why there was a miscommunication today.”

            “No, just at home,” Mina sent back.  “What miscommunication?”

            “No one told me where to go or when, so I was late.  But it worked out fine!  No worries!” 

            “What’s wrong?” Jin said as he saw you frown, both of your hands on your phone.

            “Mina’s _sick,_ ” you said, and Jin and Jungkook exchanged a glance.

            “Ah, _tell her we hope she’s better soon,_ ” the eldest said, and Jungkook nodded before pressing his hand on your hip to move you aside so he could take over the chopping again.

            “I’m sorry,” Mina sent back, which only made you frown more.

            “No, I mean, you’re irreplaceable, but someone else should have picked up the slack,” you sent back, and your phone was quiet.  You sat on one of the stools, staring at it as the boys cooked.  “Can I come over?  Bring you food?” you sent back.

            “No, thank you, I’ll be fine.”

            “Okay, so I’ll come over tomorrow?” you sent.  You could almost picture the frown on Mina’s face.

            “No, really.”

            “Okay, so the day after tomorrow?”  But when she didn’t respond, you only worried that she was annoyed or that she was sicker than she was letting on, so you sent again, “I know where you live (not creepy).  I’ll come by tomorrow.”

            “Okay,” came her meek reply, and you sighed a little, glad she finally caved.  But you couldn’t help watching J-Hope closely when he and Jimin came home and joined the three of you for dinner.  You couldn’t read him easily.  He looked tired, but so did all of the boys.  And he looked happy, but he always looked happy.  And you offered to do the dishes with him to see what you could learn, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bring anything up but casual questions about how his day was, so you wondered if Mina really was sick, or if something bad had happened between her and J-Hope, and despite how relieved you had felt earlier after talking with Tae, you still went to bed with a frown on your face and a pit in your stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, Mina! At least Y/N and Tae talked some :/
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your photoshoot with Jimin. You also find out what's wrong with Mina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> I can only write FLUFF for Jimin. I'm not sorry.

**Day 41**

          You had always considered yourself pretty guarded and protective of your feelings, when really you just didn’t like to deal with them.  And when you couldn’t deal with them or seemingly control them, they would burst out, and there was no way for you to hide what you were feeling.  So you actually often wore your heart on your sleeves, as the expression goes, and today was going to be no different, you could tell.  The pit in your stomach had made you toss and turn all night, and the uneasy feeling had only continued to grow with each passing day.  You willed yourself to try to pull it together because you knew you would be with Jimin today, and you had already made him worry and cry over you too many times.  Making him uncomfortable would only make you more upset with yourself, so you were determined to get through the photo shoot smoothly and then go and find out how Mina really was after.

          Of course, trying to hide what you’re feeling can be exhausting, and when added to everything else you had going on, the layers you were used to hiding behind could fall away more easily.  You stood in the kitchen that morning and looked around at the boys who were all in the living room having a brief meeting and tried to see how many masks each of them was wearing today.  But Jungkook started making faces at you when he caught you staring, so you stuck out your tongue out at him and turned around to busy yourself while they finished.  After a few minutes, someone clearing his throat made you turn around from the sink to see Yoongi and Jimin at the island, Jimin leaning almost all the way across it and Yoongi standing next to him, one of his hands in his pocket.

          “ _Are you watching me sleep now_?” Yoongi said.

          “ _What_?” you said, confused.

          “ _The note,_ ” he said, a small smirk on his face.  Jimin was smiling and looking at both of you back and forth.

          “Oh, _that,_ well, I was just surprised.  I’d never seen you actually sleeping before,” you mumbled, turning back around to finish cleaning the dishes.

          “Hey,” Yoongi said, stepping around to stand by you and take the cloth out of your hand, “ _sorry, it was a joke._ ”

          “ _I know,_ ” you shrugged, “I just meant, _I was happy to see you sleeping.  You look tired._ ”

          “Ah,” Yoongi said, smiling slightly before taking the dripping dish out of your hand to finish cleaning.

          “ _I hope you do that again.  Sleep.  Sleep more,_ okay?” you said, wiping your wet hand on his sleeve.  He looked down at you, and you met his gaze and pulled your hand away immediately.  “Shit,” you whispered, “ _sorry,_ I bet you hate that.  _Sorry._ ”  You gave him a forced smile, and his lip thankfully curled, but his voice was almost a growl when he spoke, and you stepped away from him.

          “ _Don’t ever do that again._ ”  He sounded really serious, so you were afraid you had really upset him, but you decided to say one more thing just to check.

          “Are you telling me what to do?”  The look he gave you when he turned his head around killed the smile on your lip, and you looked at Jimin with a concerned look, hoping he realized you were signaling for help.

          “ _He’s just trying to flirt with you,_ ” Jimin said, smiling and wiggling his eyebrows.  You weren’t really sure of the word, so you cocked your head.

          “ _Hey, Jimin,_ ” Yoongi said without turning around.  Jimin hummed and raised his eyebrows again at you.  “ _Come here._ ”

          “ _Yes, hyung?_ ” Jimin said, practically prancing over to the sink. 

          “ _Stand here,_ ” Yoongi said, grabbing Jimin’s hand and plunging it into the dirty water.  Jimin immediately started flailing and cussing him out, and you couldn’t help but laugh and step further away, not wanting to get in the middle of anything, but Yoongi’s arm was longer than you thought, and he was faster than you thought, and his other hand reached out to grab yours, and with a slight squeak you were launched forward until you felt your hand contact with the water.  You tried to wriggle away from Yoongi’s grasp, but he held you firmly while keeping Jimin’s hand down with his other one.

          “ _Ah, Yoongi, let me go,_ ” Jimin said, his face contorted.  You realized struggling would only make things worse, so you stood calmly by Yoongi, smiling at Jimin squirming, and when Yoongi finally let the two of you go, he wiped his hands on the both of you.

          “ _You two kids have fun today,_ ” Yoongi said as he walked back to his room, but you shouted after him,

          “ _I’m older than you!_ ” but he only waved his hand dismissively at you.  Jimin finally laughed as he wiped his hands on a towel before hopping onto the island.

          “Ready for today?  Pictures, pictures,” he said, miming taking a picture of you.

          “ _Sure, sure,_ ” you said, sighing, and then cursing yourself internally for already not acting happy like you had promised yourself you would.  Jimin was really wily, and his comforting smile crossed his face.

          “ _We’re going to have a lot of fun,_ ” he said.  You nodded and smiled back.

          “ _What time?_ What time do we have to be there?”  Jimin hopped up and pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the time.

          “ _Fifteen minutes ago._ ”

          “Jimin!” you said, smacking his arm.  “ _Let’s go!  Hurry!_ ”  You only heard his laughs as you rushed back to your room to get your shoes.  Why did everything seem to be falling apart without Mina?

 

          The staff seemed to be used to Jimin being late, as no one made much of a fuss when the two of you arrived, but you still felt flustered at being late, and you hurried to change into the blue skit and gray top you were given; both were pretty simple but elegant, and you sat by Jimin as you both got your makeup done, listening to the photographer describing today’s shoot.  Jimin was in charge of the proposal stage, and you had to shake your head several times to register the information.  Even though it had been in the paperwork you had been given several days ago and had gone over several times, you were still having trouble comprehending your exact role in everything.  But you did your best, letting the photographer or Jimin move or position you whenever you weren’t sure what to do.  Most of the pictures were taken in front of a gorgeous wall lined with flowers, and you tried to look serious every time Jimin got on his knee, but a couple of times you couldn’t help but smile, and, as he was a professional, his face would only slightly twitch, but a few times he also lost it and would stand up, shaking his hands back and forth.

          “ _This is so weird!_ ” he would repeat over and over again, and you had to agree with him.  Jimin suggested a dancing pose at one point, so the photographer agreed and moved closer as Jimin took your hands.  Even though you had only danced with Jimin a few times, it felt normal for him to pull you in close, and you let yourself place your head on his shoulder looking away from him so the photographer could still get close without seeing your face, and you smiled as Jimin’s hand pressed on your back.  You stood there with him for a few moments, Jimin moving your hand in his occasionally but otherwise also staying still.  It was only when you were done with that pose that he twirled you away from him, and you gave him a sweeping courtesy.  Your favorite shot of the day came from when you stood on a bench near the flower wall and Jimin stood in front of you.  Your hand featuring a way too shiny ring draped over his left shoulder, and his right hand barely held onto the bottom of your fingers while he looked forward at the camera with a soft but confident look on his face.  He somehow managed to look like someone who had just secured the love of his life, and it both broke and warmed your heart a little.  Jimin had also made you jump on his back after this pose, but you didn’t last very long because you were laughing too hard and pushed yourself off of him before you made him fall over, squishing him beneath you.  Overall, the shoot seemed to go smoothly, and you bowed and thanked the photographer and staff when you were all done, and you were going to go change when Jimin told you to keep the outfit if you wanted to.

          “Thanks Jimin,” you said, smiling at him as everyone around you started to pack up.

          “No problem.  _By the way, how did it go with Tae_?”

          “ _Good,_ ” you said, nodding but also twisting the bracelets on your wrist.  “For now, _we’re good.  I think.  Maybe.  I hope so.  I know…_ ” you paused, looking away from Jimin and his comforting smile.  “ _I know I want him in my life.  I want you in my life,_ ” you said, gesturing toward him.  “I’m just not sure what that will look like in two weeks.  _What that means.  How it looks._ ”

          “Don’t worry.  _There’s no need to worry about that for now.  You’re doing great,_ ” Jimin said, giving you a thumbs-up.

          “Thank you, Jimin.  Really.”  He nodded again and then made a noise, pulling out his phone and turning on the camera.  “Oh, no,” you said, as he pulled you in, but you smiled anyway and let him take a few pictures of the two of you, and you thanked him again before hurrying over to Jisung who was waiting with a car.

          “Jason,” you said when you were buckled up and he had turned on the car.  “ _Food, Mina.  Let’s go._ ”  Accommodating as always, Jisung nodded and did as you asked.

 

          There was a warmth to Hae and Mi-Hi that hit you the moment they opened the door, and even though you didn’t know why, you felt like crying and falling into their arms, but instead you let Mi-Hi attach to your leg for a moment before Hae pried her off and indicated down the hall.

          “Mina’s in her room.  Y/N,” she said slowly, but your heart beat quickly, “be gentle with her.”

          “What’s wrong?” you managed to say, but Hae didn’t answer, so you almost ran down the hall and only knocked once before opening Mina’s door. 

          Her room was too dark for how early in the afternoon it was; her shades were pulled shut, and no lights were on, and the only movement came from a lump in the bed, so you entered softly, putting the bag of food you were carrying on her desk and moving slowly into a sitting position by the side of her bed.

          “Mina?” you said, reaching out and touching what was probably her shoulder under the blanket.  She stirred briefly, but she seemed to be sniffling.  “What’s wrong?” you tried again.  You scrambled up and opened the door, calling out to Hae, “Has she eaten today?”

          “No,” you heard down the hall, “nor yesterday.”

          “What the fuck?” you mumbled, closing the door again and turning on the light.  “Mina, sit up,” you said.  These symptoms—hiding in the dark, not moving, refusing to eat—they were all familiar to you.  While you wanted nothing but to help Mina feel better, you also couldn’t help being glad seeing this side of her—she was clearly just as broken as the rest of you.  You just needed to find out why.  “ _Let’s go,_ Mina,” you said, grabbing the blanket and peeling it back slowly.  There was a groan from underneath, and you finally discovered Mina curled into a ball, her face red and swollen.  “Mina,” you whispered, sitting on her bed and putting your hands on her shoulders to pull her into a sitting position.  “What did J-Hope do?”

          “Nothing,” she crocked.

          “Okay, yeah, I don’t really believe you,” you said, letting her go and breathing a sigh of relief that she didn’t fall over.  “We’re going to eat, and then you’re going to tell me what happened.”  And when she barely nodded you nodded back more enthusiastically and left her side to bring the bags of food over.  As you unwrapped everything and placed them on her bed in front of her, you said, “Don’t worry about crumbs, we’ll wash your sheets when we’re done,” and she nodded again slowly.  You moved slowly, too, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but you still forced food into her by holding it up to her mouth or opening the container again when she had closed it after one bite.  Only after you counted her taking twenty bites did you let her set her own pace, and she soon put her chopsticks down and leaned against the back of her bed.

          “I quit,” Mina said, her voice small.  You put your chopsticks down, too, and stared at her.

          “What?”

          “I talked to J-Hope.  And then I quit.”

          “Okay, no, wait, start over.  Explain everything,” you said, waving your hands at her.  She took a deep breath, and you waited patiently for her to begin, crossing your legs in front of you.

          “After you abandoned me—”

          “Hey…”

          “Took me to his studio,” Mina corrected herself with what might have been a slight smile, “he and I talked.  And it wasn’t how either of us wanted it to be, he was upset about that, he said, because he had this whole thing planned, but he kept waiting for the right time, and he said he was afraid there never would be a right time, which upset him more, but we confessed to each other and then we just talked about what to do about it.  Because he said he wants to be with me,” she said, definitely smiling now, “but the company doesn’t allow co-workers to date each other, understandably.”

          “So you quit,” you said quietly when she paused, and she nodded.  “Is that why you’ve been crying and not eating?”

          “Yes.  I love, loved my job,” Mina said, hanging her head and rubbing her hand over her eyes. 

          “Of course you do!” you said, scooting closer to her and placing a hand on her knee.  “And I’m sure everyone misses you!  Everything’s already a mess without you.  But you did it.  You chose J-Hope over work.  That’s huge.  I’m so proud of you.”  And she smiled at your smile, but hers faded quickly.

          “But the company still has to approve it.”

          “What do you mean?”

          “I mean, now I can,” she paused, probably not used to saying what she was about to, “I can date J-Hope.  But only if the company allows him.”

          “Oh my god,” you groaned, falling sideways onto the bed.  “Do you need a letter of recommendation?  I can write you one.”  Mina smiled at you, a real, full smile this time, and brushed her hand through her hair.  “Seriously, though, this is all really messed up.”  Mina hummed, and you laughed.  “That’s probably the worst thing you could say about the company, isn’t it?”  She only smiled again, so you sat back up.  “So J-Hope was okay with you quitting?”

          “Not really,” she mumbled.  “He didn’t want me to risk it.”

          “Oh, shit,” you muttered.  “Did that upset you, too?”

          “Honestly?  Yes.  And no.  I know he was just trying to protect me.  Because there’s no guarantee.  But also I wanted him to have faith that we could make it work.”

          “You will.  You will make it work.  You’re both super hard workers.  And positive.  Those two traits can take anyone far.  And I will help.  Whatever I can.”

          “Thank you, Y/N.  Really,” Mina said sweetly, and you put your hand palm up on her bed, and you squeezed her hand when she placed it in yours.

          “Will you be okay the rest of the day?” you said, and she nodded.  “Okay, you’ll feel better if you take a shower and talk to Hae or something, right?”  Another nod, and you squeezed her hand again before letting go, picking up the containers of food.  When you got to her door, you turned around and looked at her for a moment.  “Mina?  Do you think some rules are meant to be broken?”

          “Hmm, no.  But some rules shouldn’t have been made in the first place,” she said, and you wondered if she actually knew what you meant, but you gave her another reassuring smile before leaving her alone.  You only managed to hand off the food to Hae and mention that Mina’s sheets needed washing before you left their house and you pulled your phone out.

          “We have a problem.  I need to talk to you,” you sent to Namjoon, and sent another text to Jisung asking him to pick you up again before Namjoon replied.

          “Okay, I’ll come straight home.”

          “No, are you in your studio?”

          “Yes.”

          “Can I come there?”

          “Sure, just knock.”

          “Okay, I’ll barge right in,” you sent, unable to hide a smile despite how anxious you were.

          “Got it,” Namjoon sent back, and you stuck your phone in your pocket before hurrying down the stairs to wait for Jisung.

          Namjoon, you would find out later, was a lot like you in the sense of anytime someone told him they needed to talk to him, he would immediately become anxious, wondering what he had done wrong and trying to prepare himself for what the conversation would entail.  When he put down his phone after reading your texts, he tried to concentrate on his work, but he switched to playing a game on his phone after a few minutes, spinning around in his chair to try to deal with his nerves.

          When he finally heard a knock on his door, he started to get out of his chair, but you really did barge in without waiting for him.  You glance around briefly, realizing you hadn’t been in his studio yet, and then gave Namjoon a small nod.  He gestured toward a chair, so you sat down and clasped your hands in front of you as you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees.

          “What’s wrong?” Namjoon said.  “Are you okay?”

          “I just saw Mina,” you said, watching his face.

          “Ah,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

          “So, just to clarify, you knew she had quit, right?  And not that she was just sick or taking a few days off?”

          “Yes,” Namjoon said softly.

          “Okay, so, if this is a culture thing, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but why didn’t anyone tell me?”

          “That was for Mina to tell you or not,” Namjoon said.  You leaned back in your chair and laced your fingers behind your head.

          “Okay, that sounds fine.  But what if she never told me?  Don’t you think it would’ve gotten awkward?  Was the plan to never tell me?”

          “Of course not.”

          “Was there a plan?” you said.

          “Of course,” Namjoon said, and he looked a little hurt, but you were feeling a little hurt, too, so you kept going.

          “Okay, okay, and you know why she quit, right?  I imagine everyone knows?”

          “We know,” Namjoon said softly.  You watched his face carefully.

          “And you don’t approve?”

          “I didn’t say that,” he said quickly.

          “Would you be fine with J-Hope dating Mina?” you said.

          “That’s not my business or decision.”

          “Bullshit,” you spat, and Namjoon’s eyebrow rose, but he also smirked at you.  “You’re his leader and the mediator between the company and the boys, aren’t you?”  Namjoon didn’t answer, so you continued.  “Didn’t you say some of you were ready to start dating?  J-Hope must have been one of the guys, then.  And aren’t you?  Aren’t you the one who specifically wanted me here?”  You let out a breath and licked your lips before clenching your jaw; your face was getting hot, and you needed to calm down.  Namjoon took awhile to say anything, so you twisted your bracelets and stretched each of your fingers while you waited, watching him the whole time.

          “Yes,” he began slowly.  “I want all of us to have a relationship if we so wish.  I am also aware and can not deny or ignore how difficult it would be.  How we are all used to giving a ton of ourselves to others and would love to have someone to give something to us every once in awhile.”  Namjoon was speaking slowly and quietly, and while he was looking at you, you felt that part of him was looking right past you, as if he wasn’t comfortable telling you this, and you rolled your head once, relaxing your muscles so you could hear him better.  “And as the leader who works between the boys and the company, I have to balance what I want for J-Hope and what I want for the group.  I am not saying,” he said, bringing his hand up, “that Mina isn’t good for him and therefore us as a group.  Or that I don’t want them to date.  I am just saying…” he paused, and you sighed again, trying to give him your best imitation of the reassuring smiles he so often gave you, “ _I’m scared.  I don’t know what the right decision is._ ”  You watched as Namjoon also sighed and threw his head back, his eyes closing.

          “ _Thank you_ , Namjoon,” you said gently, and when he brought his head back, you could see how tired he looked.  “Thank you for telling me that.  And I’m sorry the summer has been so stressful for you.”  You brought your hand up as he had done to stop him.  “I’m not saying you don’t want me here or you regret agreeing to all of this, but I am saying that you have a lot of responsibility and pressure on you, and me being here has, in a way, only added to that.  And if you deny that, then you’re delusional.”  You waited for him to contradict you, so when he didn’t you stretched your arms over your head and then shook your head.  “Man, I just wish people would just tell me what what’s going on.  And tell me what they’re feeling.”

          “But you got upset when Tae did,” Namjoon said.  You hummed and pressed your lips together.

          “That was because I didn’t know how to respond.  I am glad he told me.” 

          “So you want us to share how we’re feeling,” Namjoon continued, “but would you tell us back how you’re feeling?  Is there anything else you want to tell me, Y/N?”  The way he said it made it sound like he knew something, but you really couldn’t imagine what it was, so you only hummed again.  “That just sounds unfair, Y/N.”

          “Well, that’s life Namjoon,” you said.  “ _I’m sorry,_ I’m really not trying to be rude.  But life’s unfair.  And I tried explaining to Jin a couple of days ago that you’re all off-limits because the rules say so.  But I also don’t think hiding what you’re feeling is good for you.  I,” you stared off into a corner for a moment, “I’ll acknowledge that I feel stuck in-between a rock and a hard place.  Which just means two decisions, both of which are hard to make or dangerous to make or will get me or others in trouble.  I just, I know I don’t think Mina and J-Hope should have kept acting like they didn’t like each other.   If something needs to be said, it should be said.  I don’t want any of you to be more stressed than your lives already demand; do you know what I mean?”

          “Yes.”

          “But, Namjoon, I’m worried someone else besides Tae might like me,” you said, wondering if knew that and had been wanting you to bring it up.  “And I don’t want to get in-between any of you.  I would rather die.  I mean, not really, but it would kill me, not literally, hold on, I’ll think of a less exaggerate word…I would just hate to cause any strife between any of you.  I am 100% not worth it.”

          “Who else do you think likes you?” Namjoon said, cocking his head at you.

          “Oh.  I’m fairly positive Jin does.”

          “Jin?” Namjoon stuttered, his face blank.

          “Yeah…am I way off?” you said, noticing the way Namjoon was looking at you and suddenly feeling very stupid.

          “Oh, I don’t know,” Namjoon stuttered.

          “Oh, okay, forget I mentioned it,” you mumbled, standing up.  “But if you want to know how I feel, I’m worried about Mina, confused about Tae and Jin, anxious about when ARMY will see me, and nervous about our photoshoot tomorrow.”

          “Really?” Namjoon said, standing up, too.  “Why?”

          “Ah, just marriage stuff,” you said vaguely.

          “Okay, well, you know you just have to let me know at anytime if you want to stop.  But that will require you to share your feelings with me,” he said, one of his reassuring smiles back on his face.  So you smiled back at him, and told him you would see him tomorrow, and he sat back down in his chair to get back to work, and you left his studio, closing the door behind you and standing in the hallway for a moment.  There was something about the way he had looked at you.  He had looked at you that way before.  How had you not noticed what was behind it all this time?

          Maybe you were confused about Tae, Jin, and Namjoon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interviewer: So who takes the longest to get ready?  
> BTS: *Everyone points at Jimin*
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your photoshoot with Namjoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> There’s one sentence in here which sounds SO dirty, but I promise it’s not (sorry?). (But I laughed for like two minutes before I could finish it, oops).

**Day 42**

            You had been worrying about today’s photo shoot every since Mina said “Namjoon’s stage is marriage.”  Not just because the word “marriage” always made your insides rearrange themselves and caused you to want to burn the world down with every happy couple in it ever—you swore you weren’t jealous, it really wasn’t that; every wedding you had been to as an adult you were genuinely happy for your friends getting married; you didn’t want their husbands, you wanted your own; maybe that was jealousy; whatever it was, it didn’t feel good, and you hated it—but because you would have to shoot with Namjoon, who from day one had seemed the most hesitant around you.  And yet he had clearly flirted with you on more than one occasion.  But his reluctance to touch you and his habit of always looking like he needed to apologize to you for something didn’t set well with you.  You knew it was just his way—he wanted to make sure you were happy and comfortable—but his uneasiness only made you more nervous.  And based on your conversation yesterday, you knew you would just have to let him know; whether he could do anything about how he acted around you or not was up to him, but surely telling him would make you feel a little better.

            Of course, first you would have to get through the photo shoot.  In a wedding dress.  And then hope he would want to and had time to talk to you after.  So, naturally, you started your day late and slow, as if you were trying to put it off, and you couldn’t bring yourself to eat due to your nerves, so you spent the morning lounging around in the living room with Tae and Jimin.  Tae kept looking at you as your messed around on your phone, and his stares only made you more anxious, so at one point you told Jimin to go cuddle with him.  He happily obliged, and even though Tae seemed a little annoyed at first, he wrapped his arms around Jimin but kept looking at you.  When you got a text from Namjoon you jumped up, finally glad for an excuse.

            “Jisung will pick you up in twenty.  See you soon.”

            “ _Congratulate me, boys,_ ” you said to Jimin and Tae, smiling, “today’s my wedding day.”  They both clapped and smiled, giving you multiple cheers.

            “ _They grow up so fast,_ ” Tae fake-sobbed, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

            “Yeah, yeah,” you said, waving them off as you left to get ready to go.  As soon as you left the room, you slowed down, because you thought you heard Jimin say something.

            “ _Are you jealous_?”

            “ _No,_ ” Tae’s deep voice came to your ears.  “ _It’s not real._ ”

            It’s not real.  That was probably why you were so nervous.  Right?

 

            After almost an hour drive, Jisung had to lock the doors so you wouldn’t jump out of the car before he pulled to a stop when you saw the church out of the window. 

            “Namjoon!” you yelled as soon as your door unlocked and you hopped out.  You assumed he was there because of the other cars, but you yelled for him again until you saw him peek out of the front door.  “Namjoon!  This is the coolest freakin’ thing ever!” you screamed.  The church was old, so old it was abandoned, and its white façade was discolored from dirt, its windows were all broken in at least one place, and the weeds were overrunning its sides.  “I would totally get married here!” you yelled again, opening your arms wide and taking it all in.  You heard Namjoon laugh from the door, and only when you walked toward him did you notice he was already dressed in a nice suit.  “Damn, you look good,” you said too loudly before making a noise with your throat and closing your eyes, pretending to shield him from your view.  He laughed again and shook his head but then waved you inside.

            “Come see the inside.”  You walked carefully through the wooden doors, which were still intact but clearly not too secure.  You had been in enough abandoned buildings to know to be careful where you stepped, but the inside was surprisingly cleaner than you expected.  It looked like someone had already swept the aisle, for instance.  You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your mouth when you looked up and saw the inside of the church.  There were still plenty of pews left, but the way the light was streaming in through the broken windows made everything look more ethereal, and you wondered why all churches didn’t meet in such places because the atmosphere was definitely doing something to your heart that nothing else could.

            “It’s so cool, Namjoon.  Beyond cool,” you whispered, smiling.

            “I knew you’d like it,” Namjoon said proudly.  “Now, they’re waiting for your backstage, if you will.”  He had swept his arm forward down the aisle, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you made your way carefully down with Namjoon behind you.  You soon found the staff in charge of taking care of you today, and while they were helpful and kind and great overall, you really missed Mina, especially when you had to change into the wedding dress.  It felt…odd.  Even if it was all pretend, you had never put one on.  You weren’t one of those girls who had already found the perfect dress and was now just awaiting the guy to go with it.  You had never faked getting married just so you could try on dresses in the store.  But you knew it should be done with your mom, or a friend at least, and you wished Mina was with you.  While the dress was pretty and fit you perfectly, you watched as the staff did your hair and makeup, not recognizing yourself in the mirror.  When they stepped back to admire their work, you smiled, but it still felt like you were looking at someone else.  So, knowing you were as ready as you could be, you stood up and pressed the skirt down on your dress, your hands brushing against…

            “Namjoon!” you yelled, leaving the dressing room and hurrying carefully back.

            “ _Yes_?  What’s wrong?” you heard Namjoon’s voice around the corner.

            “This dress has pockets!” you screamed, walking back into the main room with your hands proudly stuffed in the dress’s pockets.  You were just so happy you almost didn’t register the look Namjoon had on his face when he saw you.  It had shifted to concern to amusement to something else fairly quickly.  It was the something else that lingered on his face, and you stopped where you were, your smile changing.  “Does it look okay?” you asked.  You thought the dress was beautiful; the top was lacy with a high neck and short sleeves, while the back was a low v-cut; plus, it had pockets.  “Namjoon?” you said as you got closer to him.

            “Yeah,” he finally answered, smiling and nodding, but he stepped back and his foot crushed something, and he lifted it as if he had stepped on a puppy, looking terrified and guilty all at the same time.  You couldn’t help but laugh, but you stopped quickly in case you thought you were laughing at him.

            “Everything here is already broken,” you said, smiling at him, “so it’s okay.  I’m sure no one will notice.”  He nodded, but still looked like he was wincing.

            What was the way he had been looking at you?  Was it awe?  Admiration?  Desire?  Whatever it was, it was gone now as the photographer came up to speak to the both of you to begin the shoot.  It was probably the easiest one you had done yet, in that you basically just stood there as the photographer moved around you.  You were given a bouquet of flowers to hold and another ring for your finger, and you alternated between holding the flowers or letting Namjoon take your hand.  And the way he held your hand, always by asking for it or gesturing for it with a questioning look on his face, was like how he had always been around you.  Like he really didn’t want to touch you if you weren’t comfortable, and your heart swelled a little as you looked up at him the whole time.  Your favorite moment came when he first took your hand and held it where the photographer wanted, but when he looked at you he smiled and then turned his face away for a moment, trying to look serious again.  The way his dimples didn’t hide made you smile and squeeze his hand.  When the photographer went to check the monitors he let your hand go, and you looked around again at the church.

            “Oh, we should have invited more people,” you said, looking out at the crowd and waving to Jisung and a few other staff who had nothing to do at the moment.  Namjoon laughed and hid his face with one of his hands

            “Hey,” he said when he had stopped, his voice low, “you do look beautiful.”

            “Thank you,” you managed to mutter, your checks clearly burning.  You were glad when the photographer came back so you could distract yourself from the way Namjoon was looking at you again, but this time the shoot required Namjoon to put his arm around you, and the dress was so low in the back that his hand could meet nothing but your skin, and you ran your teeth over your bottom lip once and looked around, trying not to think too much about it.  Namjoon didn’t say anything, but you know he noticed, because his hand left your back and hovered over it instead, but that just made it worse, so you frowned up at him.

            “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you said.  And while he didn’t look sure, he put his hand back, and the rest of the shoot went smoothly apart from your nerves seeming to return as you wrapped up.  By the time you thanked the photographer and changed back into your own clothes, you felt completely drained, but you managed to walk around and take several pictures with your phone while everyone else was cleaning up before you slumped into the pew next to Jisung.  He elbowed you gently, making you open your eyes you had apparently shut, showing you the picture on his phone.  You took it out of his hands so you could get a closer look, and you couldn’t help but say,

            “Wow.”  He had somehow captured a wide shot of you and Namjoon by the alter when you had been holding hands and looking at each other at one point.  You, once again, didn’t really comprehend that it was you in the picture.  The way the light was streaming in through the windows, and the way you looked in that dress… “Wow,” you said again, “ _send me this_?  _Please?  You’re so good,_ ” you breathed, handing Jisung his phone.  He looked absolutely pleased and proceeded to send you the picture.  You immediately sent two different text messages with the picture attached, one to Jungkook and one to Yoongi which both read,

            “I’m hurt you didn’t come to my wedding today.”  You closed your eyes again, leaning on Jisung’s arm, and didn’t open them again until you heard Namjoon talking to him.

            “Oh, Y/N,” Namjoon said when he saw your eyes open.  “Are you ready to go?”  You nodded, but then, to your annoyance, your eyes started watering, and you pressed your fingers against the bridge of your nose and took two deep breaths.

            “Are you having an attack?”  Namjoon said, his voice calm and close.  You could feel Jisung shifting to turn toward you.

            “No,” you said lamely.  “I’m just sad.”  And you couldn’t help the tear that ran down your cheek as you stood up.  “Can I go now?”

            “Yeah, of course, I was going to ride with you, if that’s okay.”  Namjoon was clearly flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck.

            “Of course,” you sniffed, and proceeded to leave the abandoned church as fast as you safely could before you lost it completely.

 

            There was nothing wrong with quiet.  Quiet could be peaceful.  But the quiet in the car wasn’t silence, as you were sniffling, and the way Jisung kept looking in his rearview mirror to check on you spoke volumes, as did the way Namjoon was watching you.

            “ _I’m sorry,_ ” you finally managed.  “ _I’m fine, really._ Nothing went wrong, really, it was all perfect, Namjoon.  All of it was just a little overwhelming when I thought about it.”

            “Thought about what?” Namjoon asked gently.

            “Marriage.  Yikes,” you said, wiping your eyes again.  “Clearly just the word freaks me out.”  And the quiet resettled over the car until your phone buzzed, and you read a text from Jungkook.

            “ _Oh, I got the invite, but I threw it away._ ”

            “Jerk,” you muttered, smiling.  “Hey, Jisung, _can you take me to the studio_?”  You saw Namjoon eye you when Jisung nodded, and you leaned back in your seat, smacking your face lightly to stop your tears.  “By my age,” you said to Namjoon without looking at him, “one’s usually been to a lot of weddings.  I find that I like them less and less, because I’m a really awful person who wants to be happy for other people but at the end of the day still just feels bad for herself.  And, I think,” you chuckled, “a part of me today was thinking ‘this is the only time you’ll wear one of these dresses, so enjoy it while you can.’  Isn’t that pathetic?”  Even though part of you didn’t want to, you looked at Namjoon, and one of his reassuring smiles was on his face.

            “Not pathetic,” he said softly.  “Also not true, I’m sure.”

            “Yeah,” you said, looking out the window.  And there was nothing wrong with the quiet that fell.  But it wasn’t comforting.

 

            You tried not to be bothered by the silence between you and Namjoon, especially as you both walked into the studio and went down the same hallway.  You tried not to wonder what he was thinking as you knocked on Yoongi’s door.  You tried not to stare back at him as he watched you before entering his own studio.  You tried not to do much at all, because you were so hungry you were afraid you were going to pass out at any moment.  You couldn’t even fully register that Yoongi had opened his door and was standing there, so you wondered if you had heard him wrong when he said,

            “ _I’m busy, Y/N.  I want to be alone right now._ ”

            “ _Really?_ ”

            “ _Yes, really,_ ” he said.

            “Okay,” you said, pushing past him gently and sitting down on the couch.  You knew it was a big risk.  You knew he might get mad at you.  But you didn’t want to be alone right now, and maybe he didn’t want to be alone right now, either.  Regardless, you weren’t in any state to walk anywhere, so you bent down to unlace your shoes, and he watched you, his eyes narrow, and by the time they were off he had shut his door and gone back to his chair.

            “ _Did you have fun with Namjoon_?”  That question again, though the bitterness was even more obvious.

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said as you sunk to your side on the couch before scoffing. “Then _I cried_ like an idiot.”

            “ _What?_ ” Yoongi’s chair turned around.  “ _Why_?”

            “I’m afraid I’ll be alone forever.  Or I’m afraid I’m so set in my ways I’ll never be able to add anyone into my life.”  You were too tired to care whether he understood you.  You had said it, and you kept your eyes closed.  “Anyway, I won’t bother you.  You won’t even know I’m here.  I just can’t move.  I don’t think I’ve eaten all day.”  You thought you heard Yoongi grunt or groan, and you peeled one of your eyes open when you heard the door shut.  He was gone.  You groaned, too, afraid he was so serious about being wanting to be alone that he had just left you.  But you just needed to lie down for a minute.  You’d leave as soon as possible.

            You don’t know how long you lay there, seeming to fade in and out, and you must have forgotten where you were, because you started to cry again, and that’s how Yoongi found you when he came back, a bag of food in his hand.  He muttered something before sitting on the floor next to the couch, rotating between the food on the table and your prostrate body.  You felt something touch your lips.  It was sticky, and salty more than sweet, and you opened your mouth wider so Yoongi could slip the piece of chicken into your mouth.  You chewed slowly and swallowed, licking your lips, and then another bite bumped into your mouth, so you opened wide enough to take this bite, too, and the third time you just left your mouth open, waiting for the next bite, which came right away.  So the fourth time you did the same thing, but nothing came, so you closed your mouth and pried open your eyes.  You were surprised at how close Yoongi’s face was to yours, and he seemed surprised to see your eyes opened, because he blinked, his eyes leaving your mouth, and mumbled an apology.  You just watched him for a moment, his tired eyes hiding some secret, and you looked for the answer on his face, but he seemed to have too many masks on today.

            “Hey Yoongi,” you whispered, and his eyes looked at yours as he hummed.  “ _You know, people see, no, people look_ at other people certain ways.  _Every eye, every look_ means something.”  He swallowed and nodded a few times.  “ _And words are good._ Words can say things looks can’t.  _But looks are good, too._ And looks can say things words can’t.”  More small nods and a licking of his lips.  “But the looks and words must match.  What they mean must be the same.  _Do you understand_?”  One nod.  “ _When you look at me, the way you look at me,_ ” you said, reaching your hand out to hold onto his shirt sleeve.  “ _I think…_ ”

            “ _Don’t,_ ” Yoongi almost growled, and your fingers stilled.

            “Yoongi, _I want to tell you something,_ but you can’t tell anyone else.”

            “ _No, Y/N, don’t_.”  Yoongi’s voice sounded desperate.

            “ _What_?  _Why?_   You don’t even know…”

            “ _I want to say it first,_ ” he said, and you blinked once before licking your lips, staring off for a second, and blinking your eyes again before you looked back at him.

            “Yoongi… _say what?_   Tell me.”

            “Please don’t tell me what to do,” he said, his voice low and dripping with sadness.

            “Oh, Yoongi,” you said, slipping off of the couch to sit in front of him on the floor, your hands resting on his knees which he looked down at before looking back at your face.  But once you were sitting in front of him, you didn’t know what to say, so you leaned your head against the couch and just stared at him for a moment before smiling at him, and he smiled back.  And he thankfully still smiled when you said, “Feed me,” opening your mouth wide.  But he handed you the chopsticks, and even though you pouted, he didn’t comply but instead got up and went back to his chair, leaving you on the floor to eat by yourself.  And the room was filled with small sounds of you chewing and of him muttering to himself as he worked on his computer.  But the loudest sound was what was left unsaid.  And it was going to be shouting in your ear all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your photoshoot with J-Hope. Also, you discuss the summer with Namjoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warning: Some bad words.  
> BTS with kids. Cuteness overload once again.

**Day 43**

            “ _I want to say it first._ ”

            I want to say it first?

            I want to say what first?

            Looks and words must match.

            What you say must reflect how you act.

            What you do must resemble what you say.

            I want to say it first.

            “Shit!” you said, sitting up violently, your voice so loud Yoongi took off his headphones and spun around in his chair.

            “ _What?  What_?”

            “Uh,” you stuttered, your mouth opening and closing like a mail slot way too many times to seem normal.  You blamed being hungry and being tired.  But how could you have been so dense as to not understand what Yoongi hadn’t wanted you to say?  But when the realization hit you, you started laughing, cackling, and you had to slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stop.  Meanwhile, Yoongi sat in his chair, eyeing you suspiciously.

            “You okay?” he said when your laughter started to die down.

            “I just,” you started, but then you laughed again and ended up hiding your entire face in your hands.  “ _What time is it_?” you suddenly asked, wiping a tear of mirth from your eye.

            “Uh, 1:47?” Yoongi said, for some reason making it sound like a question.

            “Wow, _do you ever sleep_?”  Yoongi only shrugged for an answer, and you leaned back on the couch, watching him for a moment.  He actually squirmed in his seat and looked away, which only made you laugh again.  “ _Sorry, sorry,_ ” you said, waving your hand at him, “I think I’ve officially lost it.”

            “ _Are you okay_?” Yoongi asked again, just solidifying your belief that you probably looked, and were definitely acting, insane.

            “ _Yeah, yeah._ I need to talk to Namjoon,” you said, standing up and stretching.  “Think he’s still up?”

            “Namjoon?  Uh, probably,” Yoongi said, eyeing you as you put your shoes back on.  He waited until your hand was on the door before saying anything else.  “ _I’m going home soon._ ”

            “Okay,” you said slowly, not exactly sure why he was telling you this, but you ventured to ask, “wait for me?  I won’t be long.  _I’ll walk with you._ ”  Yoongi turned around to glance at the clock on his computer before nodding back at you, so you shut the door quickly and walked to Namjoon’s, only knocking once and calling his name before seeing if it was unlocked.  It was, so you barged in, and you noticed Namjoon’s shoulders jump as he turned around in his chair, clutching a hand to his heart.

            “Y/N, _gah, you scared me._ ”

            “ _Sorry,_ ” you said, taking your position in the chair next to him.  “I wanted to talk to you about something.  I wanted to yesterday, but, well, I didn’t.  I was so nervous, Namjoon, it was stupid, I didn’t eat, and that’s never good, and then I panicked and just shut down completely, so I first wanted to apologize.”

            “Okay,” Namjoon said slowly, rubbing at one of his eyes.  “But I thought we agreed not to apologize if we hadn’t done anything wrong.”

            “Well, yes,” you said lamely, twisting the bracelets on your wrist.  “ _You’re right._ But I still feel bad.”

            “You still feel bad?  Did you eat?” Namjoon said, his face concerned as his eyes glanced over you.

            “Oh, yes, and slept a little.  _I’m fine._ I meant I feel bad about how yesterday ended.  I wanted to talk to you about something, and I got too afraid to, I think.”  You took a breath, and Namjoon waited patiently, his lips pressed together.  You cleared your throat before trying again.  “I’ve been trying to sort through what I know and what I think and what I should do versus how I may feel, if that makes sense.”  Namjoon nodded.  “For instance, I know why I’m here, for entertainment purposes.  Not,” you said, shaking your head, “like that, I mean, so the fans can see you interacting with women.  A woman.  Which, if you think about it, probably won’t help them much, because I’m just one woman, and everyone’s different.  And I still think they’ll hate me, but who knows, maybe it will just make them fall in love with you all more.  Maybe jealousy can strengthen relationships?”  Namjoon cleared his throat, too, so you paused, but he didn’t say anything.  “Anyway, so,” you said, clapping your hands together, “here as the guinea pig,”—Namjoon frowned at the term—“in a scandal-free environment for you all to see what’s it like to date, I guess.  Am I right so far?”

            “I guess,” Namjoon said slowly.

            “Okay, what else do I know?  I know,” you said, counting on your fingers, “that Tae likes me.  I know J-Hope likes Mina.  I know Mina quit so she can maybe be with J-Hope.  I know most of you all value your jobs over relationships, which,” you said, raising your hand to stop Namjoon, “isn’t a bad thing necessarily.  It’s all about priorities, and some of you, you said, are ready to date, but maybe deep down you’re actually not.  I also know, when all of this is over, I’m not supposed to be romantically involved with anyone.  I was told that day one.  Am I right so far?”  Namjoon nodded again, and you could tell he was thinking hard about something, but you pressed on before he could say anything.  “Okay, oh, and Yoongi likes me,” you added, and Namjoon blinked.

            “What?” he stuttered.

            “Yeah,” you nodded, “I mean, he didn’t say so, but I can tell.  I can’t believe it took me this long to notice.”

            “But if he didn’t say…”

            “Some things don’t need to be said, you know?” you hummed, and Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.  “Now, moving on to what I think, or what I’m unsure or have questions about.  I think Yoongi won’t tell me because he knows Tae likes me.  And that might be the same reason Jin and you haven’t said anything?”

            “Me?” Namjoon said, a tiny laugh escaping his mouth before he cleared his throat and licked his lips.

            “Yes, I’ll get to you in a second,” you said, holding a finger out to him.  “If I’m right about Yoongi, or the reasoning for why he won’t say anything, and if I’m right about you and Jin, then I do believe we have a big problem, and as the leader, and I hope as my friend,” you paused, eyeing him, waiting for one of his reassuring smiles, but it didn’t come, “we need to figure all of this out.  In the next,” you looked at an imaginary watch on your arm, “ten days.”

            “Okay,” Namjoon said, resting his elbow on his chair’s arm and placing his head in his hand, “and what about me?”

            “You,” you said slowly, clicking your tongue, “you look at me a certain way.”

            “How?” Namjoon said softly.

            “Like that,” you said, pointing your fingers at his face, but he smiled, and the look was gone.  “Like you want to touch me but you’re afraid to.  I told you, you won’t break me.  It’s okay if you touch me, Namjoon.  I want you to touch me, to a certain extent.”

            “Really?” he said, letting out a breath, “but…”

            “To a certain extent, Namjoon.  What makes me uncomfortable is that I think you’re looking at me past that extent.”  Namjoon blinked once before shaking his head, looking away from you.

            “ _I’m sorry,_ ” Namjoon muttered, his voice slightly muffled by his hand, “it’s not that, I swear.  I promise, Y/N,” he said, and his voice was pleading, almost begging, and you sat back in your chair, taking a deep breath.  “I am sorry.  I told you before this is all my fault.  I was so selfish, and I’m so sorry.”

            “Namjoon,” you said softly, watching his face crumble, and you left your chair to come sit in front of him on the floor.

            “I’m just so lonely,” he said, his voice chocking, “and when I saw you and heard you and read everything you had written, I just wanted to meet you, to know you, to be friends with you, and…”

            “You wanted to be my friend after watching that god-awful video?” you said, unable to not smile in your own embarrassment.

            “It wasn’t awful!  It was perfect.  You made me laugh, you made us all laugh, and you were so real.  You wouldn’t believe how many girls clearly caked on the makeup and edited their videos to be just perfect, just like you said they would.”  You nodded, remembering saying that in the video, but you looked at Namjoon and sighed.

            “May I ask why you thought I could help with your loneliness?” you asked slowly, looking up at him.  His eyes flited around the room for a moment.

            “Here’s why you’ll hate me, Y/N,” and you tried to open your mouth in protest, but he kept going, “I wasn’t sure if you could.  But I wanted someone to, and there was something about you that gave me hope.  But also, because the more I watched it, the more I,” he paused, looking down at you before looking away in embarrassment, “found myself admiring you, liking you.”

            “You watched it more than once?” you said, ignoring for a moment the other thing he had just casually said.

            “Yes.  I’m sorry, that makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”

            “Honestly?  Yes.  Because I really can’t comprehend what you’re saying,” you said, laughing slightly.  “Namjoon, you don’t like me, really, do you?”  Your question was soft, because no matter what he said you were going to feel something, and that in and of itself terrified you.

            “It’s a dumb word,” Namjoon said, rotating his head back and forth.  “It says so much while saying so little, you know?”  You nodded, bringing your knees up to your chest to hug while you waited for him to continue.  “I like you, Y/N.  I’ve liked you from the day I saw your video.  But I need you to hear me,” he said cautiously, and you nodded again, encouraging him to go on, “I know that I like the idea of you.  Not that you’re not great.  You’re really just how I imagined you would be.  But I also know I was wrong to bring you here.  That I was looking for something that you can’t give me.”

            “Which is?” you asked, leaning toward him a bit.

            “Everything,” he muttered, and you laughed.

            “I don’t know if I should be offended, or…”

            “No,” he said, laughing too and waving his hands toward you.  “No, _god, I’m making no sense._ ”

            “ _No, no,_ ” you said, “I think I get it.  You’re lonely.  Even though you live with six other people who know you better than anyone else and you’re constantly around people, there’s something missing in your life.  And you think that’s a relationship.  A girl.  And it may be,” you said, shrugging, “and there was something about me, for some reason, that made you think I could be that something, and you loved the idea of me, and you realize it was wrong to love the idea of someone and not the person, so you’ve been trying to work through what you felt before meeting me and what you’ve felt since meeting me.  And that’s caused you to have this hesitation around me mixed with guilt but also desire.  Am I right?”

            “Yes…how did you know that?”  Namjoon said, his mouth hanging open a bit.

            “This is just one reason why you like me, isn’t it?” you said, giving him a smirk.  “No,” you said, laughing a little, “I just understand a little of what you’re saying, I think.  After all, I’ve watched countless videos of all of you and then got thrown into living with you all and have been trying to figure out what to feel, too.  So, Namjoon,” you said, ready to have your heart crushed, “I’ve watched your videos for years and have thought multiple times, so many times, how much I would like to be your friend.  Because I like you, too.  I like how humble you are and willing to listen, how you work so hard and want everyone to work well together, how freakin’ smart you are, even though it’s a little intimidating; you’re someone I want to have long, deep conversations with about books or about life or about our struggles, and if you for some reason really feel the same about me, then, well, that’s crazy to me, because you’re Kim Namjoon, the leader of BTS, but wow, how lucky would I be to call you my friend.”

            “Stop,” Namjoon said, but there was a smile on his lips.  “Yes, we’re friends.”

            “Awesome,” you said, reaching up your hand for him to give you a high-five.  “That was a little weird, but that’s okay.”  Namjoon laughed, and you breathed a sigh of relief to have talked so much.  Your shoulders felt lighter, too, and you despite how tired you were, you felt energized and ready to figure everything else out.  “Okay, so, now to deal with Tae, Jin, and Yoongi,” you said, standing up and stretching your legs.

            “Well, we can’t solve every problem tonight,” Namjoon smiled.

            “I know.  I honestly don’t have any idea about what to do, Namjoon.  I just thought you should know, in case they haven’t told you.  I’m afraid someone’s going to get hurt,” you said bluntly, and Namjoon nodded, humming.  “I told you before, but I’ll say it again, I do not want to be the cause of strife between anyone.  I’m not worth it, and you all don’t deserve it.”

            “You shouldn’t talk like that about yourself,” Namjoon muttered.  “As your friend, I feel an obligation to make sure you speak kindly about yourself.”  Your lips formed into a smile at how serious Namjoon sounded.  “But Jin and Yoongi, really?  They’ve both flat out refused it.”

            “Well, then they’re lying,” you said.  “Not that I can really believe it, either, because I don’t know why anyone would like me—”

            “Y/N,” Namjoon said, his voice hard, “what did I literally just say?”

            “Oh, right.  Well, you know them better than me.  Why would they?  Or why would they not?”  Namjoon stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets and started to pace up and down his tiny studio.

            “Well Jin I just really can’t believe.  First, he’s terrible at lying, so I would have noticed.  Second, I told him a long time ago I liked you.  Like, day one,” he said, and went back to thinking and pacing while you stood and thought, and suddenly your mouth opened.

            “Oh!” you said, gasping, “Oh, that’s what Jin meant!  Oh my god.  Namjoon,” you said, and he stopped to look at you, “he’s trying to be the perfect older brother.  He told me he just wanted to protect everyone and not see anyone get hurt.  So he’s known you’ve liked me, he knew about you before Tae, and now he also knows about Tae, and who knows when he started liking me, but he’ll never admit it, he’ll never let himself because of you two.”  Namjoon hummed again and nodded.

            “That sounds like Jin,” he said softly.

            “Shit,” you sighed, sitting down again in the chair, but you jumped back up immediately when you heard a knock at the door.  Namjoon’s brow furrowed as he went to the door, opening it to reveal Yoongi in the hallway, a mask on his face and his hands in his pockets.

            “ _Hey Namjoon.  Everything okay_?” he said gruffly, his eyes looking between the two of you.

            “ _Yeah, yeah, you?_ ” Namjoon said, stretching his neck.

            “ _Yeah, headed home.  Are you almost done_?”

            “ _Yeah, yeah, let’s go over it later, okay_?”  Yoongi hummed and then looked only at you.  You felt yourself fumbling for some reason, as if you just gotten caught talking about Yoongi behind his back, which you honestly almost had been, and a part of you felt guilty for talking to Namjoon about all of this as you hurried to the door.

            “I told Yoongi I’d walk home with him,” you told Namjoon.

            “ _You don’t have to,_ ” Yoongi said, his voice sounding tired.

            “ _I know.  I want to,_ ” you said, glaring at Yoongi, and he shrugged.  “Thanks for listening to me, Namjoon.  I feel much better now.”  Your heart practically soared when he gave you one of his reassuring smiles and squeezed your arm gently.

            “Have fun with J-Hope today,” he said as you left.

            “Is it possible to not have fun with J-Hope?” you said, laughing, and you waved as the door shut behind you, leaving Yoongi and you alone in the hallway.  Your body finally seemed to realize what time it was, and you yawned, covering your mouth as you followed Yoongi out of the building.  You walked slightly behind him, staying quiet, not sure how to read the air, and you almost tripped when he finally said something when you entered the dorm building’s courtyard.

            “What did you and Namjoon talk about?”

            “Oh, _you,_ we only talked about you,” you smiled as you passed him to enter the building first, hoping he heard the joking tone in your voice, but when you stood in the elevator across from him, you saw his face, and it was downcast, and you couldn’t tell if he was mad, sad, or just tired.  He lingered when the elevator doors dinged, so you exited first, hearing him pad softly behind you.  Only when you started to enter the code for the door did he reach out to grab your wrist softly, staring at your bracelets. 

            “Yoongi,” you said after a few seconds, your hand on the doorknob.  “I was joking.  _You know that, right_?”

            “ _Yeah,_ ” he barely said. 

            “Can you let go now?” you whispered, but he didn’t respond, so you sucked in your breath and opened the door, taking a tentative step and then another one when you felt him following after you.  You entered the dorm and closed the door behind you, walking carefully through the dark kitchen and down the hall towards your room.  You stopped in front of Yoongi’s door and looked down at your wrist to see his long fingers still wrapped around it before you looked back up at him, but he was just staring at the ground, or at your hand, so you pushed his door open slightly and moved your hand into the doorway, so he took a few steps and stood in his room.  But he didn’t let go, so you raised both of your hands and pushed lightly against his shoulders, making him step backwards into his room, and you directed him toward his bed until the back of his legs hit it and he sat down, still clinging to your wrist.  But you took your free hand and carefully unwrapped his fingers and placed his hand in his lap.  Only then did he look up at you, his face tired? sad? mad?  It was hard to tell because of the dark, or just because you weren’t exactly sure what he was thinking.  You smiled at him anyway and started to turn away, but he grabbed your wrist again, and even though no one else was in the room, you still whispered,

            “ _Let go._ ”

            “ _No,_ ” Yoongi said, his voice low.

            “Yoongi, let go,” you said again, your voice low, too.  But his grip only tightened, and he brought his arm backwards, causing you to almost stumble toward him.  Your knees crashed into his, and he brought his other hand up to your hip, his eyes looking up at you.

            “Is this okay?” he said softly, but you shook your head.  His hand left your side reluctantly, and he dropped your wrist slowly and just sat there looking up at you.

            “ _No touching,_ ” you said, gently bringing one finger across his forehead to move his hair out of his eyes, “until you tell me what you need to tell me.”

            “ _What_?” he said, his mouth hanging open.

            “ _Good night,_ ” you said, smiling down at him before turning around to go to your own room.  You were both proud of and mad at yourself for making such an ultimatum, but you were tired of playing this game that so clearly wasn’t a game.

 

            The rest of your day when you woke up again at a more godly hour of eight AM did feel a little bit like a game, though, one where you had to rush through different side quests while your stamina and health bars were dangerously low.  But during your journey a fairy came alongside you to replenish your energy, and that fairy took the form of none other than J-Hope.  Your side quest today was a photo shoot, and while you were exhausted from your previous ones, and exhausted from the late night and early morning you had had, and exhausted from everything you and Namjoon had talked about, being exhausted around J-Hope just really wasn’t an option.  When you and Jisung pulled up at the photo shoot, your face grew a smile that stayed planted on your face for the next three hours.  You were at a huge gymnasium equipped with dozens of trampolines, foam pits, and blue mats.  Everything was brightly colored like the smile on J-Hope’s face, including your outfits.  He wore a teal blue tracksuit with a black block around the middle, which contrasted nicely with his bright red hair, and yours was mostly black with a red stripe and another stripe with yellow flowers on it.  Your favorite part were the Puma shoes, though, that had flowers embroidered on them, and you couldn’t stop lifting up your feet in the air for J-Hope to look at them, which only made him laugh and tell you repetitively that you could keep them when you were done. 

            And there were children!  Twin boys, around five or six, who were the cutest thing you had ever seen, and watching them interact with J-Hope about made your heart melt.  The shoot was easy and light-hearted.  The kids wore blue and yellow outfits, and all four of you together were just a mix of colors as you bounced and tumbled around, laughing and trying to all outdo each other.  There were a few calmer pictures taken on the blue mats, where each of you took a kid in your lap, facing each other diagonally and listening to them tell stories about their favorite bugs and superheroes, and a few where you all laid down, alternating between adult and kid so the photographer could take a picture from above.  You weren’t sure about that one, because it must have included your face, but you were sure he took one of just J-Hope and the kids on either side of his head, and you took a video for J-Hope during one of the breaks of him dancing with the kids.  One of your favorite pictures which made you laugh hysterically was one from the trampolines, where J-Hope was front-and-center and two kids seemed to be popping up on either side of him from the ground, their arms flailing and their grins wide, while one of your arms and one of your legs appeared in the corner.

            “Edit me out,” you kept saying between laughs, pointing at the monitor.  “What’s the point of that?”  And another picture looked more intimate and calm, taking a little bit above and behind you so only the top of your head was seem, but the kid in your lap was clearly visible, and his arms were extended to the boy in J-Hope’s lap, and J-Hope was leaning back on his arms, a laugh on his face.  Overall, the shoot went well, and you were excited when they let you and J-Hope stay a little longer when you were done to jump around.  But J-Hope was the energizer bunny, and you crashed before he did, lying on one of the trampolines while he bounced around you.

            “Hey, J-Hope,” you said, watching him do a flip, “ _how’s Mina_?”

            “Oh,” he said, a smile on his face as he came crashing down beside you, “ _good_?”

            “ _Good?_ ” you said, raising your eyebrows.  “ _What’s that mean_?”  He shrugged, a smile still on his face.

            “ _I don’t know.  I haven’t seen her lately._ Busy, busy.”

            “Uh huh,” you said slowly, eyeing him.  “ _Don’t you have a phone_?”

            “Huh?  Yeah,” he said, his head cocked.

            “You haven’t talked to her?  _Called her_?”

            “Oh, no, busy, busy.”  You made a noise with your throat and rolled your eyes, sitting up, ready to start today’s next side quest.  “Jisung!” you called, and the broad-shouldered man turned around from where he was standing on the mat.  “ _Let’s go!_ ”  He nodded to you and headed toward the exit.  “ _Come on,_ ” you said as you stood up, looking down at J-Hope, “ _you too._ ”  He made a few noises of confusion but stood up and followed you.  You both bowed and thanked the staff before leaving, but once he was in the car he looked around nervously.

            “ _Where are we going?_ ”

            “The studio,” you said, but you showed Jisung something on your phone, and he nodded.  J-Hope laughed nervously.

            “ _Are you kidnapping me_?”

            “ _Kidnapping_?” you said, unsure of the word.

            “Stealing me, stealing me,” J-Hope said, and you laughed.

            “Kidnapping?  _Maybe,_ ” you said, and then you didn’t answer any more of his questions but turned to your phone instead, sending a quick text to Mina.

            “Hey, are you home?”

            “Yes,” she sent back quickly, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

            “Are you decent?  You know, showered, dressed?”

            “Uh, yes.  Why?”

            “Coming to see you!!~” you sent, and while she didn’t respond, you weren’t worried at all.

 

            J-Hope, meanwhile, seemed to only get more and more nervous as you got closer to Mina’s house, and you wondered if he knew where you were going.  When you did pull up, you realized he couldn’t know, because not only did he show no recognition of where you were, but you knew there was no reason why he would have ever visited Mina at her house before.

            “ _Come on,_ ” you said, waving him to follow you, and he did, slowly, up the stairs and to Mina’s door.  You knocked, and J-Hope looked around, but only Jisung was nearby, standing a few feet off, also looking around.  You heard Mina’s distinct voice from behind the door saying,

            “ _I’ll get it!_ ” and you felt J-Hope freeze next to you.  And when the door opened, Mina froze, too, seeing who was next to you.

            “Hi, Mina!” you said cheerfully.  “I found this.  Thought you might like it,” you said, pushing J-Hope gently toward her.  He didn’t flounder or resist you in anyway, but he stood so awkwardly once he was inside the house beside Mina that you almost laughed.   

            “Y/N,” Mina suddenly hissed, her eyes leaving J-Hope and glaring at you, “what is going on?”

            “Not much, what’s up with you?” you grinned.  J-Hope seemed to stir, and turned almost robotically toward you,

            “ _I can’t be here,_ ” he said, and you watched Mina’s eyes lower.

            “ _Yes, you can,_ ” you said cheerfully.  “Look, there’s a chaperone and everything.  Hi Hae!” you waved past Mina to her sister in the background, and she gave you a wave back.  “And I’ll send Jisung back in two hours.  _Two hours,_ ” you said, holding up two fingers.  “Okay, _bye, have fun!_ ” you sing-songed as you started to shut the door, and you closed it slowly so Mina could take in the smile on your face and you could watched her glare at you before you made a slight screaming noise as you finally shut the door.

            “ _Alright Jisung,_ ” you said, clapping your hands together, “ _let’s go eat!_ ”

            And maybe it was petty of you, but you didn’t go back with Jisung two hours later, and you didn’t see J-Hope at the dorm that night, and you couldn’t help but grin when Mina texted you later that night.

            “He asked me on a date.  A date!  Sorry I got mad at you.  I’m in your debt.”

            You went to bed with a smile on your face and your heart full, and if today was a game, then you had definitely won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MiHope is totally inspired by me, dropping my friend off at her now-husband's apartment and saying they'd be good together and I'd pick her up in a few hours.  
> Also, the word "like" is dumb, because it leads to a lot of complications and miscommunications between people. Hopefully the different forms here are making sense.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your photoshoot with Yoongi. Plus, he has something to tell you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those written in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 44**

            Of course the day after you told Yoongi not to touch you would be a day where he was required to touch you.

            Of course it would be.

 

            If the doorframe wasn’t peeling before, it was now as you picked at it mindlessly, staring into the room.  Staring at the bed.  The bed in the center of the room.  A great big empty room filled with white walls.  At the frame behind it and the bedspread on it and the staff moving around it and the lights set up around it.  You loved beds.  You loved your bed back home.  You loved falling into a soft mattress at the end of a long day.  You loved surrounding yourselves with pillows and curling up like a hibernating bear.  You loved turning the air down just so you had an excuse to use your down comforter.  You loved beds.  But this bed did not make you want to fall into it and rest in its comfort.  It made you want to run away, run to some other bed that would be kind to you and let you just hide away from everything.

            And this door was going to be sawdust if you had to wait any longer, and you legitimately thought you might be sick if you got any more nervous.  Yoongi was late, and you were glad you didn’t have to start without him, but you also felt more and more exposed the longer you stood there in the pajamas they’d given you.  It’s not like they were scandalous—they were very modest, in fact, but they weren’t like anything you would wear, and while silk probably felt good to other people, its smooth texture and the way it moved over you so easily was actually making you shiver, and shivering just made your whole body shake, and too much shaking led to nausea.  And it was so cold in the room, probably because the bed would be hot under all of those lights, but you kept getting goosebumps on your legs, and you wished they had given you pants, not shorts, and you wished the top was long-sleeved, not short-sleeved, and you wished Yoongi would just get there already so you could get this all over with.

            “You okay?”  You snapped out of your thoughts and slightly jumped at the voice next to you.  Speak of the devil.  You turned to look at him, and Yoongi’s black hair looked like he had just woken up, its ends sticking up, but it was apparently intentional, each strand strategically placed, and his black pajamas weren’t silk and covered all of his legs, and you huffed slightly, jealous of his clothes and annoyed at his nerve showing up late.  You stopped picking at the doorframe, but you just stared back at the bed, and Yoongi looked you over once before taking a deep breath.  “ _Sorry I’m late.  I know you hate waiting._ ”  Your eyes darted to his and then back to the bed, and you ran your bottom lip over your teeth a couple of times.  “Are you okay?”  Yoongi’s voice asked softly, and you saw his hand come up towards your arm, but he withdrew it before he touched you.

            “ _Honestly_?” you whispered, swallowing, “I’m freaking out a bit.”

            “ _You don’t have to do this.  You can go home._ ”

            “ _No.  I want to._ It’s a good challenge.  But still,” you muttered, staring at the bed.  Yoongi’s eyes followed yours before he looked back at you.

            “ _It’s not like we’re shooting a porno,_ ” Yoongi said nonchalantly, and you chocked on a laugh, your hand flying to your mouth in embarrassment, but the laughter cut some of the anxiety you were feeling.  “ _We have plenty of time._ Plenty of time.  We’ll go slow.”  And his head nodded several times, as if he was talking to himself more than you.  By now everyone had noticed Yoongi had arrived, and they were calling you both over, so with a deep breath you followed slightly behind him into the room.  Before you got close to the staff, and the bed, you heard Yoongi say one more time, “ _Just let me know if you want to stop._ ”  You weren’t even exactly sure if that’s what he had said, but his voice sounded gentle, and you felt a little bit more of your nerves fade away.

            Still.  The hardest step was just climbing onto the bed.  You decided to hop onto it before Yoongi could even get to it, hoping the move would give you some energy you felt you were lacking.  The bed did certainly seem inviting, and while the white covers with the white walls reminded you a bit too much of a hospital, they were soft, and their comfort helped a little more with your uneasiness.  As you wiggled your legs back and forth slightly over the covers, getting a feel for them, you were surprised to see Yoongi lingering by the side of the bed, his eyes almost glazed over.  You watched him for a moment, and he only seemed to snap out it when the photographer said something, and he climbed slowly onto the bed beside you.  He sat butterfly style beside you, playing with his fingers and the fabric of the cover as he listened to the photographer, and while he had a lair of professionalism to him, and it was the majority of how he was acting, there was a nervousness to him that you didn’t expect, and you found yourself more nervous seeing that he was nervous.  So when the photographer told you to get under the covers, you threw them over your head and left your arms out in front of you, throwing peace signs and thumbs-up.

            “ _I’m ready,_ ” you called out, your voice slightly muffled by the covers on your head, and you sighed in relief when you heard Yoongi beside you chuckle, but the blanket was pulled off of your face, causing the cool air hit your face again, and you breathed dramatically, smiling at Yoongi.  He smiled back, thankfully, and you did as you were instructed, lying on your stomach and placing your head down on a pillow.

            “Ah,” you said, rubbing your face into it, “it’s soft.”  It was so soft you felt your eyes close and you wondered if you could actually drift off to sleep, but there was too much noise, and a staff member was messing with your hair and the covers, so you kept your eyes open, finding Jisung against the opposite wall and giving him a slight wave with your hand from under the covers.  You could hear Yoongi shifting near you, and you turned your head toward him to see what was happening.  He was leaning against the bed frame, one of his legs bent toward his chest, his arm hung over it lazily, and when he noticed you he looked down with a small smile.

            “ _Is this okay_?” he said, and you hummed in response.  He wasn’t even touching you, so you weren’t sure why he was asking, so you turned your head away again so the photographer could start taking pictures, and you did close your eyes to shut out some of the bright lights, and you listened to the shutter of the camera and the shuffle of feet and the mummers of directions and the swishing of material every time Yoongi moved at all.  And after a few minutes your body seemed to have relaxed finally, and the mummers died down and the feet stopped moving for a moment, but Yoongi seemed to be moving, and suddenly your hair fell into your face, and you blew through your mouth.

            “Hey!” you said.

            “ _Just making sure you’re awake,_ ” Yoongi said softly before moving your hair again, his fingers brushing against your forehead.

            “ _Can I move now_?” you said, half of your mouth in the pillow.  Yoongi hummed in response, so you turned your head to face him again, letting out a small groan.  “My neck,” you said, and you rolled over all the way onto your back, bringing your arm up to rub at it.

            “ _Sorry,_ ” Yoongi muttered, looking down at you.

            “ _It’s okay.  Now what?_ ”

            “Ah,” Yoongi said as the photographer came back from his monitors, guiding you into your next pose.  Yoongi put his left arm across your pillow, and you placed your head halfway on it, your hair spilling over it.

            “ _Closer,_ ” the photographer said, his hand waving you towards Yoongi.  So you scooted slightly toward him until the photographer’s hand stop moving, and you were practically on Yoongi’s shoulder at this point, and you could feel his breath on your face when he said,

            “ _Is this okay_?”  You nodded briefly, and when the photographer told you to turn, you felt Yoongi use his other arm to push slightly on your right shoulder until you faced away from him, and you felt him reach up to move your hair around again, and when he reached around your face you lifted your head up slightly so he could sweep all of your hair off of his arm and to one side, his fingers brushing over the top of your ear briefly.  You could feel his torso next to your back, but he didn’t turn into you but instead lay looking up for the photos, and you let your eyes close again, curling your arms into your chest as it really didn’t matter where they went as they weren’t in the shot.  Your legs curled, too, underneath the covers, and you pressed your feet against Yoongi’s pants, rubbing one foot down his shin to feel the fabric, but you stopped when his leg twitched away from you and you felt his arm beneath your head tense.  You almost mumbled an apology, but Yoongi cleared his throat and moved his hand from beneath your head, so you opened your eyes and turned around, wondering if it was already time for the next pose.  The photographer was saying something about your skin, and you looked down at your arm.

            “Ah, he says,” Yoongi said, bringing his arm next to yours, “our skin is opposite, looks good.”

            “Opposite?” you said, placing your arm next to his, your hairs briefly touching.  “Our skin is pretty different.  But I think they contrast well,” you nodded at your tan skin against his lighter color before bringing your arm down.

            “Uh,” Yoongi was saying, his usual confidence and languid attitude seemingly gone, “he says behind me,” he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, “ _sit behind me._ ”

            “Okay,” you said slowly, throwing off the covers and crawling on your hands and knees to move behind Yoongi.  You sat against the headboard and crossed your legs and folded your hands in your lap, wondering what to do now.

            “ _No, no,_ ” the photographer said, “ _closer._ ”

            “Okay,” you said, humming and licking your lips before spreading your legs wide.  You reached forward to tug on the back of Yoongi’s shirt, and his head turned away halfway before he scooted back until he was probably only an inch away, and you closed your legs a little until they were pressing up against his, but he lifted one of them until it was on top of yours as he sat butterfly style again.  And you knew without being directed that your face wasn’t supposed to be in any shots, so you ducked your head down and leaned forward against Yoongi’s back.  He straightened slightly when your hair touched him before he slouched a little again, looking relaxed and cool as the photos needed. 

            “Is this okay?” you heard Yoongi say to you, his face half turned, and you nodded into his back.  You weren’t really sure what the point of this position was if you weren’t in the photo at all, unless it only mattered where your legs were, but it made more sense when the photographer said something about your arms.  You lifted your head for a moment to try to look over Yoongi’s shoulder to see what the photographer wanted, but Yoongi’s arms came around behind him to grab both of your hands, and you pressed your head down again into his back and didn’t realize where he had placed your hands until his left yours.  And you sat there with your arms around Yoongi with your hands on his thighs and blinked against his back, wondering what to do.  And your hands just sat there stiffly for a moment until Yoongi’s head turned toward you again, his voice almost a whisper.

            “You okay?  _Is this okay_?”  You hummed in response and kept your face down, letting your fingers loosen up a bit.  You felt Yoongi’s head turn away again and you curled your fingers slightly into his legs.  And Yoongi swallowed, so you stilled your hands again, but you knew every photo should look a little different, so you after a few seconds you moved your hand slightly, and then the other one, sometimes moving one finger at a time, sometimes barely lifting the fabric off of his leg, sometimes pressing your thumb against his thigh, but your hands fell off of his legs when you heard him hiss,

            “ _Stop it._ ”  You pressed your head harder into his back before turning to face the other way, and his back arched away from you.  Your hands were in-between your legs and his, and you pressed them in further so that the pressure made them almost numb, but Yoongi’s legs moved away from yours, and then his body moved away from yours, and you were left on the bed, sitting there with tingling hands and messy hair.  While Yoongi went to check the monitor with the photographer, you fell onto your side, sighing into the quilt and curling into a ball.  The bed hadn’t been as bad as you thought it would be, and you closed your eyes, waiting to be told what to do next, and you only pried your eyes open slowly when you heard someone next to the bed.

            “Jisung,” you said sleepily, smiling up at him.  “ _Am I done_?”  He nodded, giving you a thumbs-up, and turning his phone around to show you a picture. 

            “Oh, come on,” you groaned, because he had clearly just taken it, but his magic had worked wonders again, and even though your hair was a mess, you looked peaceful curled up in the blanket, and the white really did contrast well with your tanned skin and hair and semi-pink pajamas.  “Jisung, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were in love with me,” you said breathlessly, smiling and handing the phone back to him.  He only smiled and offered you his hand to get up, which you took gratefully, but as soon as your feet hit the floor Yoongi was there, and he grabbed your wrist away from Jisung, which only made you wrench it free.

            “Whoa,” you said, glaring at him, “don’t do that.”  Yoongi took a deep breath and looked at Jisung and then you.

            “ _Sorry,_ ” he mumbled, giving Jisung a slight bow.  “ _Do you want to come over to my studio?_ ”

            “Right now?” you said, narrowing your eyes at him as he nodded.  “Uh, I guess.  Let me go get dressed.”  He nodded again, and you looked back once at him and Jisung standing by each other, Yoongi looking noticeably smaller, before you went to change.

            The car ride was awkward.  There really wasn’t another way to describe it.  You sat on opposite sides of the car, and he looked at his phone the whole time, and you played with the chord on your hoodie and looked out the window, wondering how mad Yoongi was on a scale of 1-10, wondering how you were going to handle him being mad at you, and wondering if there was a way to tip the scale in your favor.  Because surely this silence was one of anger, and you thanked Jisung quietly when you arrived, and he got out of the front to open your door for you, and he watched as Yoongi started to walk away before looking down at you.

            “ _Call me if you need me,_ ” he said, giving your arm a gentle squeeze, and you smiled at him before giving him a hug.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said before you hustled to catch up with Yoongi.  You nodded at any staff you saw as you followed him down the hallway and looked away as he typed in the code for his studio and took a deep breath before you followed him inside.

            “ _What was that_?” he said immediately, turning around to face you.

            “ _What was what_?” you said slowly, because you really weren’t sure what he was referring to.  Was he really mad about you talking to Jisung?

            “ _That, that,_ ” Yoongi said, waving his hand at you, and you almost smiled, because it dawned on you that Yoongi wasn’t mad.  He was flustered.

            “ _What, what?_ ” you said, imitating his voice and taking a step closer to him.  You almost smiled again when he practically glared at you, but you took another step forward.

            “ _You know what,_ ” he said, his voice low.

            “ _No,_ ” you said, shaking your head.  “I never want to assume anything.  _You have to tell me.  If I will understand, for me to understand._   _Why did you tell me to stop_?”  You clasped your hands behind your back and leaned forward a bit, knowing you were on the cusp of being an annoying brat.  And Yoongi swallowed.

            “ _I thought you said no touching until I told you whatever it is you think I need to tell you._ ”  You straightened up and put a hurt expression on your face.

            “ _First, I had to,_ I had to touch you today.  _For the photos.  Second,_ I never said I couldn’t touch you.  _You can’t touch,_ ” you said, pointing a finger at him.

            “ _That’s not fair,_ ” he said, his face dark.

            “ _No,_ ” you said, taking a deep breath and taking a step back.  “No, what isn’t fair is you not telling me what you’re feeling or thinking.  Why won’t you tell me?  _Why not_?”  Yoongi only looked at you, and you took another step back.  “ _Is it because of Tae_?”  His eyes left yours for a moment as he licked his lips before looking back at you.  “I don’t want to be in the way,” you said quietly, “or come between any of you.  But I have to know.  _I need to know._ ”

            “ _Why_?” Yoongi said, and the question actually startled you.

            “I need to know why you care.  Why you look at me the way you do.  Why you touch me.”

            “ _Why_?” he said again, and it was your turn to lick your lips.

            “ _I need control,_ ” you answered.  “Not over you, not of you.  I can’t control anyone else, I know that.  But I have to deal with what people say and what people do.  I mean, I have to control how I react to what people say and do, so the more information I have, the more at peace I feel.  _Information,_ ” you said lamely, cursing your lack of Korean skills again, “ _helps me have control, peace._ ”

            “ _I should talk to Tae before I talk to you_ ,” was all Yoongi said.

            “Okay,” you muttered.  “ _Why_?”

            “ _I lied to him,_ ” Yoongi said, his gaze leaving you again to stare into a corner.  “ _When he asked if I liked you or not.  And that was days ago._ ”

            “Oh,” you said, blinking.  You had assumed, you had been pretty sure, but when he said it like that, you could only stand there.  Finally you managed, “ _Don’t say things you don’t mean,_ Yoongi.”  A bittersweet laugh left his lips.

            “ _I never do.  Even when I lied, I meant to lie.  I’m sorry.  Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,_ ” Yoongi said, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels, his eyes staring at the ground.

            “ _Why didn’t you_?”

            “It’s not fair,” Yoongi shrugged.

            “What?”

            “ _You can’t say it back,_ ” he said, and you sighed, running your bottom lip across your teeth several times.

            “Yoongi?” you finally said, and he hummed in response.  “Touch me.”  His body stilled as he looked up at you, and his mouth opened, his tongue running along the inside of it before he sucked in a breath of air and cocked his head.  He clicked his tongue and licked his lips before laughing lightly.

            “ _No,_ ” he said, and you furrowed your brow.  “ _No,_ ” he said again, _“I didn’t say what I wanted to._ ”

            “Oh,” you said, taking two steps toward him until you were within his reach.  “ _What did you want to say_?”  You smiled up at him, and he smirked before looking away momentarily.

            “ _I like you, Y/N,_ ” he said while simultaneously reaching his hand out to grab one of your beltloops and pull you closer to him.  “ _Is that okay_?”  His finger stayed on your beltloop, and you looked up at him, unable to answer.  “ _Is this okay_?” he said softly, smoothing his hand out to rest on your hip, and you nodded.  “ _Is this okay_?”  he said, his other hand trailing up your arm, his eyes watching as you shivered but nodded.  “ _Is this okay_?”  he said, skimming his hand back down your arm and lacing his fingers with yours.  You nodded, and he smiled down at you.  “ _Is this okay_?” his voice was lower this time as his hand on your hip moved slightly up and under your hoodie.  You shook your head, drawing back a bit, and his hand retreated.  “ _Is this okay_?” he asked immediately, moving his hand toward your face to run it through your hair once, and you nodded, chasing his hand with your head.  “ _Do you like that_?” he said, running his fingers across your scalp.  You hummed in response, closing your eyes and smiling faintly.

            “ _Feels good_.”  Yoongi actually laughed, but he did it again.

            “ _You and Hoseok,_ ” he muttered, but his fingers moved across your head again.

            “Yoongi?” you said, all of your muscles relaxing, “ _I’m sorry._ ”

            “ _For what_?”

            “ _I can’t say._ ”

            “Oh,” he said, shrugging.  “ _It’s alright._ I think, you can tell me, _tell me by showing me,_ ” he said, his hand leaving your head to grab your empty hand.  “ _Actions speak louder than words._ ”  The room was too dim; he really was going to damage his eyesight.  You couldn’t see him well enough, but you squeezed his fingers gently, and he squeezed them back before letting go of both of your hands.  He stepped back, so you did, too, and you immediately blushed when he said, his voice low, “ _Don’t let anyone else touch you._ ”

            “ _What?_ ” you coughed.

            “ _Don’t let anyone else touch you,_ ” he said again, crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk.

            “Ah, Yoongi,” you stuttered, unable to look at him.“ _You can’t ask me that,_ to do that.  You don’t own me.  And, and, _I can touch my friends._ ”

            “ _That’s not what I mean,_ ” he said, shaking his head at you.  “But I’m jealous, _I get jealous easily.  And since you can’t tell me, all I can do is watch._ I want to be clear.  _I want you._ I want you.  _And I usually get what I want._ ”  He was staring at you so intently, but you didn’t feel threatened or intimidated, just flustered because you didn’t know what to say, what you could say, and while it was a serious moment and therefore not appropriate to do, you smiled and then laughed, and you immediately shook your hand at him when he face faltered.

            “ _No, no,_ ” you said, throwing yourself onto the couch, your legs giving out under you, “ _sorry, I just, I can’t believe it._ I can’t comprehend what you just said.  I just don’t understand.”

            “ _I want you?_ I want you?” Yoongi said again, his face concerned and his voice pensive.  “ _Did I not say it right_?”

            “ _No, no,_ ” you said, waving your hands at him again, “ _that’s right.  My brain,_ ” you pointed to your head and used a robot voice, “does not compute.”

            “Oh,” Yoongi said, lifting himself off of the couch and coming to sit on the low table in front of you.  “Well, _they say repetition is the mother of learning, so I’m sure you’ll understand soon.  I want you,_ ” he said, placing his hand on your knee, and you swallowed.  “I want you,” he said, his other hand grabbing your other knee, his fingers pressing into your skin, and you forgot how to breathe for a moment.  “ _I want you,_ ” he said again, his voice almost a whisper, and he leaned toward you, his knees falling to the ground before you, and your heart probably stopped beating as you leaned forward to slowly, gently, tentatively—why was your hand shaking so much?—touch his face.

            “Yoongi?” you managed, and he hummed in response, his eyes never leaving you.  “ _I’m going to go now._ ”

            “ _Stay,_ ” he said once, his voice more pleading than commanding.  You withdrew your hand and picked up both of his, pushing them back toward him.

            “Don’t tell me what to do,” you said, smiling, and he smirked back at you, and you waited until he had stood up to do the same, standing so close to him your sleeves were touching.  “Hey, Yoongi?” you said to his chest, and he hummed again.  “ _Talk to Tae_.  _Please._ ”  He didn’t answer right away, and you looked up to see him staring at the wall, his mouth slightly open as he thought, but he nodded gently a few times.  “ _Thank you,_ ” you said, placing a hand gently on his chest, and you were surprised to feel his heartbeat and even more surprised at how fast it was.  He looked down at your hand before you curled your fingers, briefly grabbing his shirt before letting him go so you could walk toward the door.

            “Y/N,” his low voice said when you got to the door.  “Wait.  _I’ll walk with you._ ”

            “It’s okay, Yoongi, it’s not even dark yet.”

            “ _No,_ ” he said, picking up his things and opening the door for you.  “ _If I don’t talk to Tae now, I never will.  Let’s go._ ”  So you let him lead you out, but you followed slightly behind him as his short legs practically ran back to the dorm, both of your heads down, each lost in their own thoughts, and the closer you got the more afraid you got, wanting everything to just be okay, whatever that meant, while knowing it wouldn’t be, because nothing ever was, and you didn’t even look at Yoongi once you got back to the dorm, you just rushed to your room and shut the door, knowing it was immature to hide away, but all you wanted at the moment was the comfort only your bed could bring, so despite it being so early, you changed into your pajamas and got into bed, trying to distract yourself for the leftover hours in the day, determined to not eavesdrop if you happened to hear Yoongi and Tae in the next room.  It was their business.  You would be gone in ten days.  Their relationship mattered more than any non-existent one you had with either of them, with any of them.  They need to work things out, if there was even anything to work out.  They didn’t need to fight over you; the idea was absurd.  You weren’t a piece of meat, and even if you were, you weren’t worth anyone hurting someone else over.  So you tried not to listen, you really, really tried, but Namjoon had warned you when you had arrived that they could be loud, so, really, you really, really tried to fall back asleep when their voices woke you up. 

            But, of course, you didn’t.  Of course not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have had to pause a lot writing this, yikes.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your photoshoot with Jin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.  
> Look, we're nearing the end, and some people at this point in the story on [my Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/) were really not happy with me, because their ships were sinking. So thanks for still reading if I killed your ship.

**Day 45**

            “ _No, hyung, I’m upset that you lied!_ ”  It was Tae’s voice that woke you.  He was louder than Yoongi, his voice clearly agitated, while Yoongi’s remained calm, and you wondered if that was part of why Tae sounded so frustrated.

            “ _I already explained why.  And I already apologized, Tae.  I think you’re upset because you know I’m right._ ”

            “ _You’re not always right, hyung._ ”

            “ _I didn’t say that.  But I usually am.  And I don’t think you like Y/N._ ”  You groaned softly and turned over in your bed, really wondering how you had never noticed how thin the walls were in this dorm, but Yoongi was so rarely home at night that you wondered how long it had been since he and Tae were even in their room together. 

            “ _Who are you to tell me what I feel, Yoongi?_ ”

            “ _Tae, just listen to me.  I already explained to you that friends don’t sleep together.  Most friends don’t.  You’re different.  I know that, Jungkook and Jimin and the rest of us know that.  But Y/N may not.  Your life has been very different from hers, so has mine, but the things we find normal may not be to other people.  Are you following so far_?”  You couldn’t hear any sort of reply, but Tae must have agreed, because Yoongi continued.  “ _You and Y/N have a lot in common, but you’re also very different.  You get along well, and she’s clearly liked you from day one.  Everyone likes you, Tae.  I’ve told you this a thousand times, but it’s one of the reasons I’ve always been jealous of you.  You know this.  Everyone likes you.  So I believe you like Y/N, I do, but like I said, I think you just like her as a friend._ ”

            “Yoongi…”

            “ _No, listen, you like her as a friend.  But she’s a girl, so you think you like her as something more._ ”

            “Hyung…”

            “ _And that’s okay, but it’s confused her.  And confused you.  You can just be friends with her.  I’m sure she’d like that._ ”

            “ _This honestly sounds like you’re just trying to get me to back down and leave her alone._ ”

            “ _I am.  But, again, it’s because I don’t want you to be confused, or to confuse Y/N, or to get hurt, or to hurt Y/N.  If you tell me right here and right now that you like Y/N, as in you would like to date her if you could, I will leave her alone and fully support you._ ”

            “ _I’d say the same to you, Yoongi._ ”  There was no denying that you weren’t trying to ignore them anymore.  You were out of your bed and standing in the middle of your room, wanting to pace back and forth from your nerves but not wanting to make any noise.  “ _That’s why I asked you weeks ago, and you lied.  That’s what I’m upset about.  Maybe you’re right about me only liking her as a friend, but if you can’t even admit to me, how are you going to admit it to her?_ ”

            “ _I do like Y/N,_ ” you barely heard Yoongi say.  “ _I told her earlier.  That’s why I’m talking to you, you idiot.  I know, and she knows, that you and I need to be okay before anything else.  So, Tae, do you like Y/N_?”

            “ _You really like her, hyung_?”

            “ _Yes, okay, do you_?”

            “ _Like, really, really like her_?”  Tae’s voice was getting louder, and you weren’t sure if you should run into the room to stop them from fighting or flee back to your bed and keep pretending like you had heard nothing.

            “ _Yes, okay, get off me, what are you doing?_ ”  Yoongi’s voice finally rose and changed pitch, and you flung open your door and ran down the hall to see if anyone else was around and awake. 

            “Ah, Jimin,” you said, stopping as soon as you came in the living room and saw him sprawled on the couch scrolling through his phone.

            “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

            “Ah,” you said, looking back down the hallway, “I think, _I think,_ Tae and Yoongi are fighting?”

            “ _What?_ ” he said, but he immediately bounced up and ran to their room, leaving you standing awkwardly in the living room.

            “What’s going on?” a sleepy voice said, and you saw Namjoon sticking his head out of his room down the hall.

            “I think Tae and Yoongi are fighting,” you said, taking a few steps toward him.

            “So?  They do that all the time,” he said sheepishly.

            “No, I mean,” you said, feeling embarrassed, “maybe about me?”

            “Oh,” Namjoon said, his eyes widening, and he hurried past you.  You stood once again by yourself, trying not to decipher the four voices now coming from the room next to yours as you wondered if leaving the dorm at—three seventeen the clock read—was a feasible option.  A single laugh that was almost a scoff made you looked back down the hall to see Jin leaning against his doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest.

            “What?” you almost spat, not at all pleased with the way he was looking at you.  And him just shrugging made you even more upset.

            “ _Just knew it was coming._ ”

            “Yeah, well,” you huffed, “I’m not happy about it, Jin.  _I’m not enjoying this._ ”

            “Oh, _me either,_ ” he said, pushing himself off the wall and walking toward you, but you retreated to one of the stools and sat on it, watching down the hall toward your room, and you just sat there listening to the noise of voices while Jin leaned against the kitchen wall, stifling a yawn or two.  And you couldn’t help but jump up when the door opened and Namjoon, followed by Jimin, and then Tae and Yoongi came into the living room.  You eyed Yoongi and Tae closely, seeing no physical injuries, and you bumped into the stool as you move backwards when Tae saw you and a huge grin came over his face.

            “Y/N!” he said, rushing to you and wrapping his arms around you.  His voice was so low and quiet that you almost didn’t hear what he whispered in your ear, but you did, and you looked past him at Yoongi, wondering what exactly they had talked about.  “Be good to him.”  Your mouth was definitely opened in confusion as he pulled away, squeezing both of your arms before flopping down on the couch.

            “Jimin, _go wake up Jungkook and J-Hope.  Quick meeting, everyone,_ ” Namjoon was saying, and you watched as the boys started to settle into the living room, and you tried to act like no one could see you as you slunk back to your room, but Namjoon was too quick.  “Y/N, I’d like for you to join us.”

            “Uh,” you said, spinning around and shifting your eyes between all of them, “why?  What’s the meeting for?”

            “We need to discuss you.  Yoongi has something to say to us,” Namjoon said nonchalantly, and you looked at Yoongi, hoping he saw the pleading look in your eye, but he was staring at his hands clasped in front of him.

            “Uh, no thank you,” you said again, and Namjoon frowned.

            “Y/N, when we have a problem or conflict, we all discuss it together.”

            “Cool,” you said, nodding dumbly, “I think that’s great.  A great way to communicate.  But I’m not in BTS, so I’m going to leave you all to it.”

            “Y/N,” Namjoon said again, but you shook your head.

            “Yeah, nope, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you all talk about me.”

            “Y/N…”

            “No way, Namjoon, that is way too weird.”

            “Don’t,” you heard Yoongi say, and you looked back at him to see him smiling slightly at you.

            “What?” you mumbled, sounding more whiney than you intended.

            “Leave.”  Don’t leave.  All of the implications of those two words came flying at you.  Don’t leave the room?  The request was impossible.  You knew if you stayed you’d break down, become a complete mess, not be able to look at any of them the following day or maybe ever again.  Even if you did leave the room, you would still feel awkward later.  Don’t leave the dorm?  Were you so predictable already?  Did he know you were thinking of doing just that?  Running away to Mina or Jisung and just pretending like nothing was wrong?  Don’t leave…him?  Shit, no, you had less than ten days less.  He couldn’t be asking you for the impossible.

            “I’m just going to my room,” you sighed, and as you saw Jungkook and J-Hope stumbling into the room you exited while everyone was momentarily distracted.  You rarely locked your door, unless you were changing, but you rushed in and did so before jumping back into bed, glad you could only barely hear mummers coming down the hall, forcing your eyes to shut and telling your brain to shut up.  Your eyes shut; that part was easy.  Your brain, on the other hand, had a million things it wanted to share with you, and the mummers down the hall had stopped a long time before your brain finally quieted, also.

 

            “What are you staring at?”  you muttered five hours later as you slowly at the breakfast Jin had put in front of you—pushed into you, telling you sternly to eat before it got cold.  Jungkook only smirked at you.  “What?  Stop it.”  But he didn’t, he just lowered his head and wiggled his eyebrows at you.  “What?” you almost yelled, and he bounced on his stool, laughing.

            “ _Ah, leave her alone, Jungkook,_ ” Tae said, leaning onto Jungkook’s bare back and smiling across at you.

            “Yeah, leave me alone, Jungkook,” you muttered, taking another bite.  But now Jungkook and Tae were both staring at you and smiling, and you started to run your fingers through your hair and pat your face and look down at your shirt, wondering if there was something stuck to you.  “ _What?_ ” you said, exasperated. 

            “ _They’re just teasing you,_ ” Jimin said, sitting next to you and stealing a bite off of your plate.  “ _Leave her alone._ ” 

            “Yeah, that’s not nice,” you mumbled again, frowning at the two smiling boys, but then you turned to Jimin.  “ _Why?_ Why are they being mean to me?”

            “Yoongi.  He told us,” Jimin said, smiling comfortably at you.

            “Oh.  Yeah,” you said, stuffing another bite in your mouth to avoid saying anything else. You hoped your body language was expressing gratitude toward Jimin as your tone probably sounded apathetic or annoyed.  You had already thanked him for the note he must have slipped under your door after they had all talked— _Everything will be fine_!—that you had found when you woke up, and you leaned into him for protection.  “Great.”  You of course noticed the look Jin was giving you, and you of course noticed he put another serving of food on your plate as he looked at you, and you obviously flung a chunk of rice at Jungkook and Tae, and you obviously laughed with Jimin when bits of rice stuck to Jungkook’s chest.  “Jin,” you said loudly, changing the subject and taking another bite before pushing your plate toward Jimin, “ _are you ready for today_?  Photos?”  Jin nodded, smiling and sucking in his breath,

            “ _Yes, I heard the photographer got a new camera for today._ ”

            “ _A new camera_?” Jungkook said, wiping the rice off his chest and smearing it into Tae’s face.  “ _Why_?”

            “ _He needed a special kind to capture all this beauty,_ ” Jin said, waving his hand around his face dramatically.

“ _He’s always like this_?” you said to Jimin, who nodded with pressed lips before he shook his head.

            “ _Always,_ ” the boy said, a hint of mock sadness in his voice.

            “ _Thanks for breakfast,_ ” you said to Jin as you stood up.  “Jimin, _eat that,_ ” you pointed to the plate, but he shook his head.

            “ _I’m full._ ”

            “Bullshit,” you said, and his eyes went a little wide before he started laughing.  “ _Eat it._   And I don’t really appreciate you laughing at me,” you said to Tae and Jungkook, who immediately straightened up, their faces serious.  They both opened their mouths, probably to contradict you, but you didn’t let them say anything.  “Because nothing about this is funny.  _Nothing is funny._ ”

            “Ah, no,” Tae said, rubbing the rice off of his face and pushing Jungkook away from him, even though the youngest steadied himself on the stool and didn’t fall over completely.  “Y/N, sorry, we’re happy.  Yoongi,” he paused, looking around as if he thought saying his name would summon him, “likes you.  He, _he doesn’t let himself be happy very often, and he’s really happy._ Aren’t you?”

            “Happy?  _Happy_?” you said, and Tae nodded.  You looked around at the four boys, each watching you with expectant looks on their faces.  Were you happy that Yoongi liked you?  Of course you were.  What idiot wouldn’t be?  You were happy when Tae told you he liked you.  When Namjoon did.  You were human; humans like to be liked.  They need to be loved.  If someone complimented you or said you were pretty, even if they were a drunken asshole, a part of you still felt happy.  Of course.  But was that the predominate feeling you had?  No, of course not.  You were confused and terrified more than anything else.  And that’s what you wanted to say.  But all that came out was, “ _Yes,_ ” followed by a small smile as the three youngest boys all smiled at you.  Jin, however.  You avoided his gaze and left the room to get ready.  You would have plenty of time for him to judge you later at the photoshoot. 

 

            “Yoongi?” you said quietly at his door, but there was no response.  Not wanting to wake him, you didn’t knock or say anything else.

            He lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling, unable to come to you.

 

            And, oh, did Jin really bring it with the looks.  They alternated between completely happy to see you to clearly judging you to trying to see right through your or right past you to not looking at you at all, and you were not enjoying the photoshoot, to say the least.  It should have been easy.  Put on this casual red dress decorated with flowers and take off your shoes, wear this apron and stir this pot, look domestic like a little housewife and let the photographer work around you to take pictures of Jin.  That’s how it should have gone.  But instead he was touchy.  So touchy.  He wanted to touch you for every picture, and you were glad your face wasn’t in any of the pictures, because it was scrunched and started to ache from frowning so much, and your muscles were getting sore from being so tense, and the worst part was that Jin was trying to help but was only making it worse, and he couldn’t even really see your face, or he saw and didn’t say anything, and the last semblance of professionalism you had was finally shattered when he pulled you in for a back hug, his arms slipping around your waist and his head fitting snuggly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against your ear.  Your breathing immediately became ragged, and your body convulsed once before you shook him off, hoping you weren’t flinging wildly because you felt like your limbs were out of control—you felt like you were out of control—as you pushed past him and ran for the bathroom.

            You had seen your fair share of bathroom floors.  They weren’t your favorite places to be, especially if you stopped to consider how dirty they were, and especially if you considered how ridiculous you must look.  To sit on a bathroom floor was a sign of desperation.  To sit on a bathroom floor and cry was purely pathetic.  But you had done it before, and you would do it again, and you were doing it now, your legs pulled up to your chest, your arms wrapped around your legs, even if you didn’t want to be doing it.  You pulled at your hair and cursed aloud, digging your forehead into your knees when you heard a knock on the door.  You made no sounds apart from the gasps for air and sniffling you had been making, but someone came in anyway and squatted down in front of you.

            “ _Did you get sick_?”

            “ _No,_ ” you managed, the sound muffled by your legs.  “ _I’m fine._ ”  Jin snorted.

            “ _That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard.  If you’re going to lie, lie like you did this morning where at least some people will believe you.  You can’t say such a pitiful lie to someone who’s good at lying, don’t you know that?_ ”

            “ _You’re not good,_ ” you said, bringing your head up just enough to peek out over your knees at him.  “You’re not good at lying.  You’re a terrible liar.”

            “ _At least I have confidence in my lies.  That’s why they sound believable!_ ” Jin said, and he sounded so upset and looked so angry you had to believe he was partially joking, otherwise you would feel ever worse.

            “ _I’m sorry,_ Jin, you must hate me.”

            “ _What?  No,_ ” he said.  “ _Never._ ”  And there was something about the way he said it.  It was the most honest thing he had ever said to you, and you shook and sobbed again.

            “ _Why did you lie_?  This morning?  _You’re not happy,_ ” Jin said softly when your breathing had calmed down again.

            “Because.  It’s easier sometimes.  Isn’t it?”

            “Maybe.  For a time.  _Temporarily.  But it only hurts more later.  Trust me,_ ” Jin said, his voice low.

            “ _I’m sorry,_ ” you mumbled again.  “Can you finish the pictures by yourself?”

            “Of course,” Jin said, smiling calmly at you.  “ _But I’d rather finish them with you._ ”

            “ _No,_ ” you said, laughing at yourself, “ _I look awful._ ”

            “You remember _I said I’d protect you?_ ” Jin said, and you nodded, looking at him again over your knees.  “So,” he said, standing up and looking around the bathroom before grabbing the shower curtain.

            “Jin,” you squeaked, “ _what are you doing_?”  He busied himself for a moment before answering, taking off just the cloth part of the curtain before swooping it down over you until you were underneath it.

            “Okay, stand up,” he said, and you felt a smile on your face as you did, looking down at your bare feet next to his under the curtain.  He repositioned it so it covered your head and wrapped it around you, leaving your face free but your arms almost pinned in front of you as he held the curtain tightly closed in front of you.

            “Are you swaddling me?” you said, suddenly laughing, but Jin just cocked his head at you.  “ _I’m not a baby,_ ” you clarified, but he shrugged.

            “ _Babies cry a lot,_ ” he said, and you wanted to reach out and punch him, but your hands were trapped, so you kicked at him instead.  “Hey!  Hey!” he said, raising his legs to try to block your blows.  “ _Treat your elders with respect!_ ”

            “I’m freaking older than you!” you almost yelled, kicking at him again.

            “Oh yeah.  I forgot,” he said, grinning, clearly indicating he had not, in fact, forgotten.

            “Ya,” you said, wiggling in the curtain.  “ _Now what_?”

            “Oh, now we take pictures,” he said, pulling you toward him while simultaneously walking backwards out of the bathroom.  You narrowed your eyes at him, but let him lead you back down the hall back to the kitchen you had been in previously, and you stopped when he stopped, the only thing visible being his chest, neck, and head, and you waited while he talked to the photographer about something, but you couldn’t wait very long before you whispered up at him,

            “Jin, it’s hot under here.”  Jin grinned down at you and moved the curtain off of your head, smoothing your hair as he did so, but you pushed your face into his chest, knowing it was red and swollen.

            “Hold this,” he said, handing you the curtain, and you took it from him so his arms could wrap around you.  “Okay?” he finally asked, and you nodded against him, standing still until the photographer was done.

            “Earlier,” you mumbled, and Jin hummed to indicate he was listening while he continued to pose for pictures, “ _it wasn’t you.  I am happy._ But also, _I’m confused.  And scared._ ”  You felt his arms pull you in tighter.  “ _I need you to decide_ what you’ll be to me.  _If a friend, no more_ judgy stares.  _Please._ It matters, _how you look at me._ ”

            “ _I’m sorry, Y/N,_ ” Jin whispered, a smile on his face.  “ _I’ll never look at you again._ ”

            “Ya,” you grumbled, poking him in the chest.  He coughed and tried to move away from you slightly.

            “Friend, friend,” he said.  And you should’ve looked at him when he answered, to see if you could tell if he was lying or not, but you only pressed your forehead into his chest again, because you wanted everything to be easy.  It should all just be easy.

 

            It’s easy to knock on a door.  Just lift up a fist and move it forward once, maybe twice.  It’s easy to open a door, too, just grab the handle, turn, and pull.  But you stood lamely in front of Yoongi’s studio, your fist raised in the air, unable to bring it forward.  And when he noticed you in his security camera, he left his chair and stood by the door, his hand on the knob, unable to pull it open.  It should have been easy for one of you to give in, to let go, but neither of you did.

            Because nothing’s easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jin is a gentleman.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your time with the boys is almost over, so you need to make the most of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 46**

            A little bit of panic mixed with regret, sadness, and yet gratitude hit you the next morning as you sat at your desk, planning the boy’s last English lesson and looking at the calendar.  Counting today, you only had eight days and a day of travel left in Korea with the boys, and as you realized this you started to frantically make a list and write everything down that you hadn’t gotten to do yet that you wanted to.  When you had, you had to pause and look at what you had written, proud of yourself.  It was a small change, but it was a positive change; it was growth to want to get more things done instead of just shutting down, knowing the ending was coming soon.  It was small, but for you, it was huge, and as you knew the boys had a group photoshoot today and practice, you figured it would be your last day to sightsee, and you planned to go sightseeing, talk to Mina and maybe clean the house or do something for the boys.

            Yes, you had eight days left, and you were going to make the most of each of them.

 

            Your first goal was to spend time sightseeing with Jisung, because despite how long you had been in the country, there were still countless of places you hadn’t been and plenty of attractions you hadn’t seen.  So while the boys worked, you walked and laughed and took pictures with Jisung and finally took the time to really watch and listen to Jisung.  When you ate lunch you asked him a ton of questions, so relieved every time he answered and so grateful you knew enough Korean now to communicate with him.  Apparently he had a younger sister still at university majoring in art, and you insisted on seeing a picture and asked to meet her, but she didn’t go to school in town.  He was from Ilsan, and his job with BigHit as a backup dancer had brought him to Seoul.  This you couldn’t believe; not because you couldn’t picture him dancing, even though his girth seemed a little too large for many fluid movements, and when you asked him to show you he refused, saying he had gotten injured after two years.  He was eternally grateful that the company kept him on, but his job changed to driving and security, and, like Mina, he had only good things to say about the company and the boys.  He told you about the one time Jin had called him to come give him and Jimin a ride, and Jimin was so drunk Jisung had to carry him to the car, thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and you rolled in your chair, laughing and threatening to tell Jimin even though you would never.  He told you that he loved dogs, but his building wouldn’t allow one, and he loved sunrises more than sunsets, which was fine because he was a morning person, and his favorite instrument was the guitar, which he had recently started to learn, and he preferred showing people he cared by listening instead of talking, but he was glad to finally tell you about his personal life.  A huge grin was plastered on his face every time you struggled with a Korean word or pronunciation, not to make fun of you, but to show you how proud he was of your hard work.  He explained he never did well in school and wasn’t on speaking terms with his father because of it, so he was hopeless when it came to learning English, but you insisted that not being able to learn a language didn’t make one dumb, and intelligence isn’t as important as character.  And Jisung had great character.

            And you learned he had a girlfriend!  Which honestly shocked you at first, not because you couldn’t picture anyone dating him—he was the perfect gentleman and surely an amazing boyfriend—but because he had never said anything about it.  But he showed you a picture of the two of them, and she was so tiny and cute that you gushed immensely and demanded to meet her before you left, which only made him blush, something you had never seen him do, so you knew he must be head-over-heels for her and just wanted to keep his personal life sacred and keep her out of any sort of public eye which only made you admire him more.

            And when you brought up his picture taking skills, his face looked a little sad, but he explained how he had wanted to do photography for a living, but equipment was expensive, and the timing never seemed to work out.  And you sighed with him.

            “That’s a pity.  _That’s too bad_ ,” you said.  “ _Because you’re really good._ Your talent shouldn’t go to waste.”  You made yourself a mental note to make sure to do something special for Jisung before you left.  He had driven you around, taken countless of amazing photos of you, made you laugh, fed you, kept you safe, and become your friend, and you wanted to make sure he knew how much you appreciated him.

 

            The next stop was Mina’s, and you couldn’t really decipher her text when you asked if you could come see her,

            “Sure,” so you had no idea if you were going to walk into broken Mina or happy Mina, and while you wouldn’t want her to be sad, at all, ever, you had handled that before, and you realized you had never really seen her happy before.  Sure, she had smiled and laughed around you before, but she had never been in-love happy, that annoyingly cute sort of happy that never lasted forever but everyone should go through at least once in their life.  That was the happy Mina was when she opened her door for you, and it resulted in a hug initiated by her and a little bit of shock coming from you, making you really unable to move much until she let go.  She looked great.  There were no dark circles under her eyes or redness to them.  You just watched her as you gladly played with Mi-Hi while Hae and Mina cooked dinner, the two of them clearly sisters—sometimes working together perfectly, sometimes rolling their eyes and sighing in exasperation at each other—and you enjoyed seeing this side of Mina a little more.  And you watched her as you all ate, her face shining as she talked about job interviews she had lined up.

            “I’m applying to be an interpreter!  There are a couple of business and government jobs available, plus one with a school that I really want,” she said excitedly, and you could only wish her well, knowing whoever hired her would be lucky to have her.  But you could tell behind all of her smiles and laughs that there was something she was hiding or holding back on, and you thanked Hae for doing the dishes so the two of you could rush to Mina’s room to flop on the bed and talk alone.  Sitting across from her and trying not to giggle made you want to giggle even more—you felt like a teenager at some sleepover about to talk about boys.  Because that’s what you needed to talk about.

            “Okay, so, please tell me you went on your date,” you started, and Mina immediately blushed and hid her face with her hands, clearly giving away how she felt.

            “Y/N, you should have seen him when you abandoned…”

            “Hey…”

            “Dropped him off here?  He was so scared!  I had never seen him so scared!” she laughed.

            “Why?  Why was he scared?” you said breathlessly.

            “He was seriously afraid the company would find out.  He could’ve gotten in big trouble for being here without telling anyone.”

            “Yeah, I figured,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck.  “I should probably apologize to him.”

            “ _No,_ no,” Mina said, waving her hands at you.  “It’s okay.  I think.  J-Hope and I are most similar in that it’s hard for us to turn off our professionalism if we think we still need to be.  He and I have to learn to be informal, natural with each other.  And that will take time.  But I think that’s why I’m not worried about it not working.  Because we both love to set boundaries and will work tirelessly to meet them.  So we talked for hours about what we each expect and what we each want and what things might look like for our future,” she said, smiling at the word.

            “Sounds like a proper business meeting,” you said seriously, but there was a smile on your lips.

            “Ya,” Mina huffed, swatting your leg.  “A relationship is like a business.”

            “That sounds cold.”

            “No, I mean, there have to be rules and expectations, and people have to agree to them, and you have to work with and for the other person involved and communicate about problems in order for things to run productively.  In order for your business, or relationship, to be fruitful and profitable—not necessarily money-wise, obviously—all of these things must happen.”

            “You’re right,” you said.  “That really makes sense.  I just mean, where, or how do emotions play into everything?”

            “Those also drive a business,” Mina explained, nodding slightly at her own words.  “Without passion or love for what you’re doing, you won’t succeed.  Sometimes even negative emotions can lead to a positive outcome.  And you should have fun working, but what equals fun will look different for every job and every circumstance, you know?  And by business and job, I still mean relationship,” she said, smiling shyly.

            “Yeah, I understand metaphors,” you said, laughing.  “Hey, Mina, have you ever been in a relationship before?”  You were a little surprised when she nodded—not because you couldn’t imagine anyone dating her, she was beautiful, kind, and a hard worker, but she had an innocence to her that you had always equivalated with her being single.  “What happened?”

            “We dated in college.  Very serious, actually.  But he got a job out of the city, and I got one here, and suddenly his traditional, old school traditional, side came out strong, and he didn’t want me to work but move with him, and I didn’t want that.  Ultimately, I chose work over him.  Which, honestly,” Mina said, picking at her blanket, “scared me for years.  I thought I would never find a guy who supported my work.  Or I would never be able to balance the two.  Or I would have to one day chose again between work and a guy and I would make the wrong decision.”  She paused, and you knew to jump in with a reassuring smile.

            “You haven’t made the wrong decision.  J-Hope will clearly support you working or not.  But I’m sure he wants you to be happy, and if you’re happy working, then he’ll want you to work.”  Mina nodded, and you did, too, glad that they seemed to have talked about this already.  “So, did you actually go on a date?”

            “Oh, no, we just talked that night, but we’ve been texting since then, which is new.  And I know texting may seem impersonal to some, but it’s safe.  I know the company doesn’t look at his phone, if that makes sense,” you nodded, relieved to hear the boys had some semblance of privacy in their lives.  “And I know we’ll have to go slow.  But we have plenty of time.  And I need time to adjust to not working or getting a new job.  But I’m happy.  Happy and excited about what’s to come.”  You thought for a moment about crying when you heard her, and your face did scrunch for a second as she smiled down at her lap, but you only smiled, genuinely happy for her.  “But anyway, how are you?  How did all of the photo shoots go?”  For a moment you pictured yourself back in the interview room, Mina across from you next to the camera pointed at your face, but the image quickly faded.

            “Honestly, better than I expected.  I didn’t look at many of the pictures, so I hope there were enough good ones.”

            “I’m sure there were,” Mina said, placing a hand on your knee.

            “And it only got awkward a few times, because, oh, I have to tell you,” you said, but paused, and Mina’s eyebrows rose.  “Oh, wow, a lot has happened.  First, Namjoon told me he likes me,” you said, keeping track on your fingers.

            “Oh, he finally told you?”

            “What?” you stuttered, looking up at her.  “You knew?”

            “About Namjoon?  Of course.  He was pretty smitten when he saw you,” Mina said casually.

            “What?” you groaned, falling sideways onto her bed.  “And you didn’t tell me?”

            “I couldn’t tell you that.  Not at work.”

            “Mina,” you groaned again, tousling your hair.  “What else didn’t you tell me?”

            “Well, I knew about Tae before you did.  Because he told me, and he really wanted to impress you.  And Jimin’s talked to me about you a lot.  He was really worried about you several times, and he wanted my help translating some things he wrote a couple of times.  Oh, and Jungkook,” Mina laughed at the memory, “before your date asked me so many questions about what you would like to do.  I kept telling him I didn’t know and told him to read your application and watch everything we had of you on tape, which I think he did three or four times.”

            “Oh, wow,” you said, laughing with her.

            “So how are things with Tae?”

            “Hold on, Namjoon first.  You said he was smitten?  He explained it like that to me, too, so we ended up having a good talk.  We’re going to be friends, and I couldn’t be happier.  Tae, well, we still need to talk, but it sounds like he just likes me as a friend, too.”  You stopped, waiting to share the last bombshell with her.  “Yoongi, apparently,” you murmured, and Mina leaned toward you, her eyebrows raised again.

            “ _What?_   What about Yoongi?”

            “Yoongi confessed to me,” you said slowly, half of your mouth muffled by the blanket.

            “Yoongi?” Mina shrieked, and you sat up, your hand flying to her mouth to cover up her ridiculous smile.  “Min Yoongi?”

            “Nice, I’m not hurt by your reaction at all,” you huffed.

            “No, no, I just,” Mina said, removing your hand and smiling calmly at you, “I’m not surprised.  I’m just remembering what you said to me when we first met, on the way back from the airport.”

            “Uh, what did I say?” you said, cringing slightly, impressed she could remember anything from that long ago, and not really feeling sure you wanted to hear what you had said.

            “‘No romantic relationships.’  Followed by ‘I’m 100% not worried about any of them falling for me.’  You don’t give yourself enough credit, Y/N,” Mina said softly.  “You’ve been a fool if you really thought at least one of the boys wouldn’t like you.  And here you are with three of them openingly telling you they do!  I bet the rest of them do secretly.  Except J-Hope, of course.”

            “Of course,” you said quickly, but you couldn’t help but cringe again.

            “Of course you’re a fool?” Mina said playfully.

            “Yes,” you groaned, shaking your head.  “But do you think it’s true?  Could Yoongi really like me?”

            “If Yoongi said it, then he means it.  He only speaks when he really wants to, and he always says what he means.”  You fell onto the bed again, staring at Mina’s blanket and her knee in front of you while she waited patiently for you to collect yourself.  But if you made her wait until you were ready, she’d be waiting forever, so you decided to say something. 

            “Even if that’s the truth.”

            “It is,” Mina said softly.

            “Even if it’s the truth, I don’t know if I can believe it.  To believe it makes it real.  Means I have to address it.  Means that,” you paused again.  “Oh my god, Mina, he just can’t be serious.”

            “Why not?”

            “Why not?  Why to begin with?  He could have any girl in the world.  Why would he want me?”

            “Probably because you say things like that,” Mina said, and you looked up at her, curling your body slightly, waiting for her to explain.  “You have a unique way of looking at the world.  You’re honest and see things how they are.  And to most people it may look pessimistic, but to Yoongi he probably just hears the realism in your thoughts.  He sees something in you that you don’t see, and I bet he wants to help you see it, too.  Don’t mishear me,” Mina said when your mouth opened, “he is not trying to ‘fix’ you.  Yoongi knows he has problems and flaws, and he’s so painfully aware of them and his desires to fix them, he’s not naïve enough to think anyone can do it for him or that he can do the same for anyone else.  But help doesn’t mean doing it for you.  Besides, he has seen how you handle stress and difficult situations…”

            “What, by having meltdowns and running away the problem?” you scoffed.

            “No, by being resilient.  Did I ever tell you what he said one day when we were going over your application?”

            “No,” you said simply, because you knew she knew she had never told you, but she asked so that you had a reason to listen closely to what she was going to say.

            “It was while we were discussing your medical records,” Mina said, her voice slightly too professional for you.

            “Yeah, okay, yep, I get it.  And?” you hurried her, not wanting to think about the subject too much.

            “He said something like ‘She must be very strong to have made it this far.’  And,” Mina continued, not saying anything about the tears suddenly running down your face, “Yoongi doesn’t pity anything.  Have you seen how he treats the boys?” she laughed softly, and despite your tears you grinned.  “He doesn’t put up with anyone unless they really need help.  And he’s good at telling the difference between someone who’s acting pitiful and someone who is really struggling.  So he can tell, Y/N, and he cares, and once he starts caring, there isn’t much to stop him.  Even if you reject him, he’ll still care.”  Her words only made you cry harder, and her hand came to rest on your shoulder, her thumb moving back and forth gently over your shirt.  “I know you’re scared,” Mina said, her voice hardly reaching your ears.  “You have been from day one.  I know you probably feel out of control.  I know you’re confused.  And I know it’s easier said than done, but maybe just let what happens happen while you’re still here.”  You sniffed and wiped your eyes, looking up at her gentle face.  “Yoongi knows what he’s doing.  He wouldn’t have told you unless he wanted to and unless he really meant it.  Just know that and try to believe that, okay?”  You nodded, sitting up and wiping your face and slapping your cheeks slightly.

            “I’m going to hug you now, okay?” you said, and Mina nodded, smiling at you.  You buried your face into her shoulder and held her tight. “Thank you for being really good at your job and even better at being a friend.  I’m really going to miss you.”  Mina’s fingers on your back twitched before she gave you a final squeeze and pulled away from you.

            “Am I really your friend?” she said, and her face looked so hesitant, you couldn’t help but smile.

            “Of course!  If that’s okay.”

            “Yes please,” she smiled back.  You stayed on her bed, smiling and laughing as you swapped stories while you waited for Jisung to pick you back up, and you left with another mental note to try to think of something to do for Mina before you left to make sure she knew how much you appreciated her, even though you were pretty sure nothing would ever be good enough.

 

            Your final stop of the day was back at the dorm because you really wanted to find and talk to Tae which ended up being easier than you expected because you saw him the moment you walked in the door.

            “Y/N!” he shouted at you like he did practically every time he saw you as if he was afraid you would forget your name.  His arms were spread wide from his position on the couch next to Jimin, and despite how gross you felt from walking around all day today, you ran to him in slow-mo, which only made the three boys laugh, falling down on the couch next to him and kicking off your shoes so you could bring your feet up beside you.  Tae threw one of his arms around your shoulders and squeezed you in tight, and you stroked Jimin’s head that was lying in Tae’s lap.

            “ _What are you watching_?” you asked them, and Jungkook, who seemed to stare the most intently at the screen from his position on the floor rattled off some title and explained who the director was and why he had been wanting to watch it for a while, and as he explained, Jimin started to move his mouth up and down in imitation, which you couldn’t help but laugh about.  Jungkook spun his head around to stare at you and you gave him an innocent smile while simultaneously placing your hand over Jimin’s face.

            “Hey!” Jimin groaned, but he didn’t move your hand, so you left it there until you realized it might be dirty and you wouldn’t want to get his face dirty, so you removed it.

            “Hey, Tae,” you said, and even though you poked his chest softly, he acted as if he had gotten hit by a bullet the way he gasped dramatically.  You waited until he had stopped before you continued.  “Are we okay?  _You and me_?”

            “Of course,” he said, using a silly voice and giving you a smile.  And even though he was a wonderful actor, when it came down to it, the boy was so bad at hiding how he felt that you fully believed him, so you smiled in relief and leaned your head on his shoulder, trying to watch the movie with the boys even though Jimin kept asking questions, which greatly annoyed Jungkook who kept groaning and answering him shortly, and Tae kept pointing out actors he recognized or made sound effects every time there was an explosion, which also must have greatly annoyed Jungkook who kept smacking any limb he could reach without turning all of the way around.  You had no idea what was happening in the movie, but that didn’t matter.  You were enjoying yourself, feeling completely comfortable and more at peace than you had felt in a while, but the second the door opened and Yoongi walked in you sat up, sitting very still.  Even though his eyes looked half-closed, he saw you; how could he not?  He was used to seeing the boys, used to coming home to see them curled up together watching TV or fighting about something stupid, used to things as they were.  But he wasn’t used to seeing you, even after all of this time, so he noticed you with Tae’s arm around your shoulder as soon as he walked in, and he tried not to alter his steps noticeably as he waved to everyone and poured himself a drink.  And he tried to keep his voice normal as he entered the living room, but he knew it sounded too needy, too whiney, despite how low he tried to keep it when he picked up Tae’s arm and said,

            “ _Move over._ ”  And you weren’t really sure who he was talking to, so you scooted to your right, and Tae scooted to his left until there was enough room for Yoongi’s small frame, but you weren’t pressed against his arm for long because he grabbed your hand and said, “ _Sit here,_ ” indicating to the floor, and you tried to not question what was happening—“just let what happens happen” Mina had said—as you positioned yourself in-between his legs on the floor.  And you really tried not to look at Tae, or Jimin, or Jungkook, who were probably all definitely watching what was happening in front of them, which seemed to be Yoongi putting his hand in your hair and rubbing his fingers back and forth over your scalp.

            “ _Is this okay_?” he hummed, and you hummed back in response, trying not to relax too much, because if you did your eyes would close, you’d press your head against Yoongi’s knee or back onto the couch between his legs, and you’d hum in pleasure again, and a part of you was too self-conscious to do any of that in front of the other boys.  So you tried really hard to keep your eyes open, staring at the corner of the table or down at your fingers in your lap, but Yoongi’s fingers felt too good in your hair, and you couldn’t help but swallow and close your eyes as a tiny whine escaped your mouth, and the second it did Yoongi’s hands stilled momentarily, and you pressed your face into his leg, so embarrassed you wanted to melt, and Yoongi’s soft laugh didn’t help you any.

            “ _Come here_ ,” you heard his low voice say, and you turned away from everyone to stand up, keeping your head bowed as he pulled you back onto the couch, but your plan to just sit beside him again was apparently not his plan, because he took your hand and put it behind his head to rest on his shoulder and then put his other hand on your waist to guide you onto his lap.  You were facing sideways a bit, your knees running into Tae sitting next to you, and all three of the boys were staring at you with different expressions on their faces.  Tae’s face seemed to have gone blank, while Jimin’s mouth was gaping open, and Jungkook had the dumbest grin on his face.

            “ _Is this okay?_ ”  Yoongi said, watching your face while his hand pressed against your waist.  For an answer you turned and hid your face next to his, pressing your forehead against your own arm, wanting to hide your burning face from everyone’s stares.  You were trembling.  You realized it when your forehead touched Yoongi’s ear and your fingers on his shoulder started to shake.  “Hey,” Yoongi said.  His voice was a mere whisper, but it sounded so loud with his mouth so close to your ear.  “Where are you?”

            “Uh,” you mumbled, your breath hitting his neck, causing his grip on your waist to tighten slightly, “the living room?”

            “Who are you with?” he said, his voice still low.  You couldn’t dare to look to see if the other boys were watching.  God, you suddenly hoped they all spontaneously forgot every English word they had ever learned.

            “You,” you whispered, and you pressed your head into the crook of his neck, “Yoongi.”  He hummed, and you thought your face would burst into flames.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Fuck, I don’t know,” you groaned, and your response made Yoongi laugh.  You felt his whole head shake and then turn away from you slightly toward the TV screen.

            “ _Get back to your movie, boys,_ ” Yoongi said, and you curled your back a little, trying to retreat further into Yoongi, into the couch, into anything that was away from the boys’ stares.  Yoongi’s hand remained around your back on your waist, and he took his other one to grab your knees and lift your dangling legs onto the couch so your whole body shifted a little bit closer to him.  “Is this okay?” he asked one more time, and you finally nodded, struggling to breathe but still not ready to look anywhere else other than at the tip of Yoongi’s ear and the tuffs of his hair that fell around it.  And you didn’t count your breaths or your heartbeats, because you would have too easily lost count, but your muscles began to relax, and you could hear the sound of the movie instead of the roaring in your ears, and you finally lifted your head up a little, just enough to see all of the boys watching the screen.  And since your arm was starting to feel a little numb, you moved it from behind Yoongi, causing him to look back at you, but you just crossed it with your other one in front of your chest before you leaned back into Yoongi’s shoulder, positioning yourself so you could see the screen, too.  Yoongi smiled at you and rubbed his thumb over your knee a few times as you settled down again, and you took a deep breath, enjoying the ending of the movie and the ending of the day, even if you didn’t quite understand exactly what was happening.  As the credits began to roll, everyone started to stir, but Yoongi held fast to you, and it was only when he said with a serious voice,

            “ _Wow, that movie was really stupid,_ ” that Jungkook exploded, and Yoongi had to almost throw you off onto the floor to defend himself against the youngest.  But you only sat there and laughed as the four became a tangle of limbs and insults, making a mental note to try to do something for each of them before you left, because you would hate if they each didn’t know how much you appreciated and cared for them.

            After all, you only had a week left with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MIHOPE!!! Mina out there being a real friend.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You film your last Run episode with the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 47**

            You had always been good at expressing your thoughts and feelings into words on paper.  Your confidence in such forms of communicating had never wavered.  But now, as you sat at your desk erasing and scratching out practically every other word you wrote down, you began to question if you actually had no idea how to write anything at all, that you were destined to make a fool of yourself; that no one would ever know how much you appreciated them or how grateful you were.

            You groaned and put your head on your desk, wishing that your thoughts would just seep out of your brain and arrange themselves in those things called letters to form some words, those things you apparently weren’t very good at.  But, alas, you would have to use your hands, so you sat back up and re-arranged all of the papers and spun your pen and looked around the room and tried to think.  Weeks ago you had written a letter to each of the boys with Jimin.  You hadn’t delivered them, though.  They had sat in your desk drawer, waiting patiently for you to figure out what to say.  And there was a lot you wanted to say.  But today you were supposed to say something on camera, say something ARMY would hear later, and therefore at least half of what you wanted to say you couldn’t, you wouldn’t.  Groaning again, you told yourself to keep it short, keep it simple.  Keep the long, emotional letters for later.  Maybe even after-you-get-home later so you wouldn’t have to see their reactions.  Reading a letter out loud to the person in the room is like watching them open a present in front of you; awkward, first of all, and usually the recipient’s reactions are forced and faked because everyone’s just trying to look happy and not upset each other.

            So, short and sweet.  That’s what you would make it.

            Just like ripping off a bandaid.

 

            Shooting the last Run episode today only made you realize how much little time you had left with the boys.  It also made you miss Mina, as another staff member helped you get ready, and you kept looking behind the cameras, hoping you would see her, but all you were met with were bright lights.  You were grateful they put you in a comfortable sweater and pants today, because if you thought too hard about it, the last time you did anything was always hard and always made you sad.  You found yourself struggling to pay attention because your eyes were shifting over each boy’s face, trying to record everything you saw with your eyes.  Later, you would laugh at yourself, because their faces were literally being recorded so anyone could go back and watch their tiniest expressions, but for now, you wanted to see them, you wanted to dive into each expression. 

            Namjoon, whose face would often reflect yours—if you smiled, he smiled, if you looked concerned, he looked concerned—would always end by giving you a reassuring smile, encouraging you to go on if you ever felt worried or got stuck on a Korean word.  J-Hope, constant smiles on his face, always giving you eye contact to know he was listening when you spoke, always lighting up even brighter if you said something funny.  Yoongi, his eyes narrow and sometimes seemingly uninterested, his small smile and tiny head nods always giving him away whenever you said anything.  Jin, whose look was only tender and confident, still being as obnoxious as ever, clearly proud of himself if he made you laugh.  Tae, his mouth sometimes hanging open and his eyes looking spaced out, but totally concentrating on everything you said and did, making sure to smile at you if you ever looked his way.  Jimin, so often melting into your shoulder or giggling at your side, other times twirling his rings and purely looking concerned if he noticed the slightest tension in your voice.  And Jungkook, taking bold steps toward you at times while backing away from you at times, wanting to tease you so badly but not wanting to be too obvious or too close in case you reached out to smack him.

            These seven guys, some who you could read better than others, some who could read you easily from day one, these guys were spending time with you, and you cursed yourself inwardly for not just accepting everything soon, for pushing them all away unintentionally.  You wanted to be happy, to just be, to let things happen that would happen, and while that was against your nature, and part of you wanted to just scream against such a notion, you told yourself it was only for a few hours.  You could have fun for a few hours.

            So you did.

            While simultaneously being slightly, mildly, majorly embarrassed.  After all, the majority of the episode was showing clips and pictures of your “dates” with the boys while they made comments—most of them were about food; you swore, anytime any food came on the screen Jungkook was pointing and pouting, saying he wanted some, to the point where you had to remind him each time about the wonderful food you ate together, to which he only pouted harder and said “Yeah, _but I want that now_.”  Jin and J-Hope were the loudest, making exaggerated sounds of awe whenever you did anything remotely cute or funny, which only made you bury your hands in your face harder and wish you were on a couch you could drown in instead of the uncomfortable stool.  You tried to watch them instead of the screen, as apparently they hadn’t seen your “dates” with the other boys yet, but you found your eyes wandering to Yoongi, who sat with his legs crossed, his hands on his knees, looking so unbothered.  You watched him because you still couldn’t read him clearly.  You didn’t know if he was really unbothered or if he was just acting like he didn’t care to hide how he really felt.  But he didn’t even seem to blink if he saw you hugging or holding hands with any of the other guys, and you unconsciously shuddered, hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t mad.

            But after some general comments about the dates from the guys, most of them along the lines of they had fun, it was nice to get some free time, etc., you had to share your opinion, and while you had already done so in an interview that you knew the boys had watched, you said again for the camera here when asked about your favorite date.

            “ _My favorite_ ‘date,’” you began, putting a hard emphasis on the word by using quotation marks in the air, “ _was with Namjoon_.”  But you didn’t even get to explain why, because several boys started making noises all at once.  Tae and J-Hope looked particularly crushed, and you distinctly heard Yoongi say,

            “ _That’s not fair, he got to pick first._ ”

            “ _Yes, yes,_ ” you said, pointing at him and nodding, “Namjoon had an unfair advantage.  But!” you raised your voice a little so they would all be quiet and listen to you.  “ _He listened._   He picked an activity he knew I would like.”

            “ _What, and I didn’t_?” Jungkook gasped, placing a hand on his chest.  You just waved him away with your hand.

            “Okay, okay,” Namjoon was saying to get everyone’s attention, and a staff member was showing something else to everyone on the monitor.  It was the pictures you had taken for the past week.  “ _These weren’t used as a factor for the scores,_ ” Namjoon explained to the boys as you saw Jungkook’s photo first, “ _but the staff thought it would be nice to share what they thought were the best ones with us._ ”  Everyone nodded, understanding, and again made comments as each picture came up.  They were loud and adamant about the first three, commenting on how young Jungkook looked, how happy Tae looked, and practically whooping at the way Jimin was staring into the camera, causing the boy, and you, to laugh and try to hide from everyone.  Their noise drowned out a little when they saw Namjoon’s picture.  He looked extremely serious in the photo, holding your hand with a ring in it, and he looked extremely good in that suit, but it wasn’t long before the boys had something to make fun of, questioning why he looked angry on his wedding day.

            “ _I couldn’t breathe in that jacket!_ ” Namjoon almost yelled, throwing his finger at the screen, and you had to laugh, but you also felt bad he had suffered so much.  J-Hope’s pictures made everyone laugh but also aw, and that was all because of how cute the kids were, you just knew it, and J-Hope spent a few minutes gushing about them and how amazing they were at dancing.  He looked like a proud father or something.  The picture of you and Yoongi made you turn away, slightly embarrassed, especially as everyone did visibly still for a moment when they saw your arms on Yoongi’s thighs and the way his tongue was barely sticking out.  God, you hadn’t known what he was doing when your face was behind his back, and you laughed out of nervousness, and then laughed as Jungkook whined,

            “ _Who did he bribe to get a bed as his concept?_ ” And Tae said,

            “ _You look like an alien,_ ” and he wiggled his arms and made gross noises.  Yoongi actually smiled at that, but then he went back to just nodding his head.  And the picture with Jin had come out nicely, mostly featuring him.  It was after he had wrapped you in the shower curtain, and the gentle way he was smiling made your heart warm even now, but of course Jimin stood up and pointed at the screen.

            “ _Is that a shower curtain?  Were you about to murder her and warp her up?  What is with that?_ ”

            Overall, it was a mess, but the boys seemed happy, so you were happy, and a staff member brought out a covered-up board before Namjoon explained again.

            “ _So, all this summer we’ve had the lovely B with us,_ ” he said, indicating toward you, and you smiled at the camera with a small bow, “ _but before we announce the winner, she’d like to say a few words._ ”  You nodded and smiled at him before getting some papers out of your pocket, knowing things could be edited together but still not wanting to take too much time.

            “ _Ah, thank you, thank you.  First, thank you to the staff and crew and all the translators working hard to add subtitles for ARMIES around the world,_ ” you said, giving a thumbs-up to the camera.  The boys nodded and hummed in agreement.  “ _Thank you to Korea.  You are beautiful.  Everyone was so helpful._ I hope everyone can come visit Korea soon,” you said, and J-Hope and Jimin gave a small round of applause.  “ _Boys,_ ” you said, not really able to look at them even though you knew they were all watching you, “ _thank you._ I know those two words will never be enough, but, _really, thank you for everything.  I’m going to miss you all._ ”

            “Ya,” Jin shouted, apparently sensing everything was too serious, “ _it’s not like you’re dying!_ ”  You smiled and nodded at him.

            “ _I know, I know.  I wrote these for you,_ ” you hopped off of your stool and checked the names before distributing to the boys.  “I’m sorry I’m not very good with words.  I decided I couldn’t read these out loud.  I’d get too emotional.  _So I hope you read these later with smiles._ ”  Each of the boy nodded and smiled as you gave him a letter, and you tried not to make eye contact with them now, really afraid you were about to lose it.  “ _Finally, ARMY,_ ” you said, retreating back to your stool, “ _please continue to support the boys.  They are working hard for you.  Thank you!_ ”  The boys all gave you a light round of applause and thanked you in return before Namjoon stood up and went to the covered-up board.

            “Okay, _so if you don’t remember, here’s a reminder of what we had to do or what B did.  First, we did a little dance, dance,_ ” Namjoon said, and J-Hope proudly got up to reenact that embarrassing activity.  “ _Right, right, and Tae won that.  Then we got judged on looks, which Yoongi somehow won._ ”  The boy smirked and raised his hand proudly.  Jin scoffed dramatically.  “ _Then we assigned B to take some pictures._ ”

            “ _They were all so good!_ ” Tae sing-songed, and Jungkook agreed.

            “ _But my concept was voted the best, the sunset._   _Then we did the dates, and I also won that._ ”

            “Yeah, yeah, _we get it,_ ” J-Hope said, but there was a smile on his face.

            “ _So, the staff calculated first, second, and third place, where first place got three points, second got two, and third got one.  Make sense_?”  Everyone nodded, and Jungkook started to tap his leg impatiently.  “ _So let’s see who won!_ ”  Tae started to do a drumroll on his legs with his hands, and you found yourself biting your lip.  You didn’t even know what the stupid prize was.  It couldn’t be anything that involved you; they would have told you.  But you just couldn’t imagine that it would be anything huge, either, because despite how extra the boys got or how competitive they were, it was always over the smallest things, so it couldn’t be that big of a deal.  So you told yourself to not be so nervous, but you couldn’t help it, and you looked over at Yoongi again, who looked as calm and cool as ever, and you bit your lip one more time before Namjoon revealed the results.

            You blinked quickly to register what you were seeing.

Tae: 7

Namjoon: 6

Jungkook: 4      

Yoongi: 3

Jimin: 2

Jin: 1

JHope: 0

            J-Hope and Jin were immediately on their feet, making dramatic gestures and crying foul, while Jimin was laughing and falling into J-Hope.  Jungkook was also on his feet, pointing at the board and then pointing at Yoongi, ecstatic.

            “ _I have more points than you!  Ha!_ ”  And he just kept laughing and doing a happy dance while Yoongi shrugged.  Namjoon was nodding his head, and Tae’s mouth was hanging open a bit, his eyes wide before he started smiling and pointing at himself.

            “ _Me?  I won?_ ”  The other boys had to concede defeat and give Tae a round of applause.  You joined them, even though you still felt a little uneasy about what Tae had won.

            Apparently, he had won a kiss.

            The bastards, waiting to spring this on you with no warning.  It’s like they knew you would go along with it because you weren’t about to mess up the show by refusing in the middle of filming.  You regretted not backing out of at least one of the photograph shoots this week or something; maybe you should have set a precedent for running away from things.  Well.  You had.  But never on camera.  (That time running with Tae in the rain didn’t count.  Oh, with Tae).  You looked over at Tae who was blushing too much for his own good, and that only made you more nervous, and you stood up slightly from your stool, your face the picture of confusion despite a stupid grin on your face—god, why couldn’t you get your face to match your emotions?—and people were making a big fuss, and it was so noisy, and how dare they do this to you?  And you looked at Namjoon, who was giving you a reassuring smile, and Jungkook, whose eyebrows were wiggling so much you wanted to shave them off, and Jimin, who looked about ready to burst from laughing so hard, and J-Hope, who was trying to bring Tae over to you calmly, and Jin, who was looking at you kindly, thankfully, not glaringly, and Tae, who was grinning but also clearly shy, and Yoongi, who looked.  The same.  And you tried to watch him as he and the others came to stand around you, but you looked straight ahead instead, and you tried not to hold your breath when his hand landed on your shoulder, and his thumb caressed your back three times.

            “ _It’s okay, let’s go, Tae,_ ” Yoongi said.  And it wasn’t a question.  He wasn’t asking if you were okay, he was letting you know he was okay.  And you felt slightly better, your shoulders relaxing just a bit, but you still let out a breath and swallowed, trying not to look as Tae got closer to you, and you heard him giggle once before you squinted your eyes shut and felt Tae’s lips come closer and closer toward your face.

            And, oh, thank God it was just a kiss on the cheek.  People did more when simply greeting each other in other countries.  But your stomach still clenched involuntarily, and Yoongi must have felt you trying to move away, because his hand tightened on your shoulder, and you opened your eyes and made a slight gagging noise before turning to laugh at Tae, who thankfully laughed back.  And if it wasn’t awkward enough, you said,

            “ _Thank you,_ ” and bowed toward the camera.  Everyone laughed, even Yoongi, even if his laugh wasn’t as loud as everyone else’s—you really wanted to record everyone’s laugh to see how much louder Jin’s was from everyone’s else’s, though on a good day J-Hope and even Namjoon could give him a run for his money—before his hand slipped from your shoulder.  You got in the line near J-Hope as Namjoon signed off and gave another bow to the camera when everyone was done, and then it was over.

            You stood there for a moment, a little numb.  Was that really it?  Had you really been worrying for weeks about a kiss on the check?  Would ARMY really enjoy seeing all of this?  Was that what you were actually worried about?  You sighed as you unraveled the mic from yourself and handed it back to a staff member, watching as the boys filed out of the room.  You caught yourself looking at Yoongi again, and he caught you looking at him, so he came over to you before he left.

            “Yoongi—”

            “Come here,” he said, taking your hand and walking toward the door.  And you panicked.  Even if the boys knew, that didn’t mean the staff did, and you tried to pull your hand away, worried someone might see, but his fingers only tightened around yours harder, so you knew resisting wouldn’t do any good, and you let yourself be led out of the room and down the hall all the way into his studio.  Only once you were inside did he drop your hand and sink into his chair, brushing his hair back to put a cap on his head.

            “ _Are you mad_?” you said, needing to know immediately.

            “ _No,_ ” he said, staring at you.  You sat down on the table in front of him, pressing your lips together.

            “ _Really?  You’re not upset Tae won_?”

            “ _No, it makes sense.  Our date went horrible,_ ” Yoongi muttered, and you opened your mouth but shut it again, your lips twitching.  “ _Besides, it doesn’t matter.  This isn’t a game._ ”  You nodded, agreeing with his last statement, but you still felt uneasy,

            “Yoongi, _our date wasn’t bad._ It was great.  _I loved it._ ”

            “Yeah, but,” Yoongi protested, looking at the ceiling.  You stood up and went over to him, stretching your hand out to him.

            “Give me that letter I wrote you,” you said, and he eyed you for a moment before pulling it out of his pocket.

            “Yoongi,” you said, uncrumpling it and clearing your throat before reading.  “ _You once asked if just being with you, being around you, was enough.  The answer is yes_.”  You’d said it, then.  Not with words anyone else would understand, because you couldn’t say it, but Yoongi understood.  At least, you hoped he did.  The way he was looking at you made you wonder for a second.  His eyes seemed to have glazed over a little, and his bottom lip was slightly parted from its partner as he blinked up at you several times.  Nodding once, you put the paper back in his hand and went to sit on the couch.  Your movement seemed to stir him out of his reverie, and he pouted slightly.

            “ _Why’d you do that_?”

            “ _Do what_?” you said, honestly not sure if he was upset at what you had just said.

            “ _Sit over there._ ”

            “Oh,” you said, looking at the couch, “uh, _I wanted to_?”

            “ _But now I can’t reach you,_ ” he said, reaching his arm out to you.  You laughed once and stood back up, sitting at the table again in front of him and placing your palm on top of his.

            “Yoongi?” you said quietly, his eyes leaving your hand to look at your face.  “ _What is it_?”

            “Oh,” he said, his lips pouting a bit, “I.”

            “Just say it.  You’re upset about the kiss.  It didn’t mean anything, _it means nothing._ I’ve seen Tae kiss you before.  And Jimin, and Jungkook, shoot, he’s kissed you all.  And the other day I saw Jimin kissing your neck,” you said, your hand drumming lightly against his neck, but he leaned slightly away from you, his hand coming up to grab your wrist.  “ _It was just a kiss,_ ” you ended lamely, your eyes darting over Yoongi’s face.

            “I want to.  Kiss.  _I want to kiss you_.”  His voice was steady, certainly steadier than your hand that trembled in his grasp.  He put your hand back on his knee, and it slid up his leg as he wheeled his chair closer to you, his legs surrounding yours as he leaned in closer to you.  Your hand twitched, and your fingers curled on his thigh, and you leaned slightly away from him, his face suddenly feeling too close.  You swallowed and dropped your gaze, but your eyes saw his hand coming up to your face, and you pulled away again, just barely, when his thumb brushed your chin, and he stopped, his index finger under your chin that was visibly shaking, and his voice made you clench your jaw.

            “ _Is this okay_?”  You swallowed again but managed to nod slowly, your eyes trying to focus on the corner of his desk as his thumb ran along the bottom of your face again.  You didn’t pull away this time, and now there were three fingers brushing against your skin.  And Yoongi leaned closer, his eyes darting to yours until you looked away again and his locked onto your cheek.  His mouth mere centimeters from your skin meant that his breath hit you even before you registered what he was saying, which didn’t really matter, because you knew what he was saying.

            “Is this okay?” And you nodded, or trembled, and held your breath as his lips pressed gently against your cheek.  And you forgot that you had a hand, and forgot where it was, but your fingers tightened against his pants.  When he pulled slightly away from you, you let out a breath that hitched again when his fingers were moving your head to turn to the other side.  As your eyes moved across his face you saw a smirk on his lips, and you brought your other hand to his knee, needing to steady yourself.  But he knew, he could feel how much you were trembling, and he leaned in again, slower this time, and you huffed, because he had to know he was only making it worse, and you knew he was smiling when he stopped, his lips almost touching your cheek as he asked,

            “ _It this okay_?” your nod was steadier this time, or his grip on your chin was tighter, and your fingers relaxed on his legs as he kissed you again, and you swear your eyes went blurry for a moment.  You blinked and looked at him out of the corner of your eyes, thinking he was done, but he didn’t meet your gaze, his eyes intently staring at your neck.

            “Yoongi,” you muttered, but he didn’t look up at you.  Instead, his fingers tilted your head back, and he leaned forward again, and without saying anything gently ran his nose up along your neck.  You visible shrunk away from him, your hands leaving him to grasp the table as you scooted away.  “Okay, okay,” you gasped, and his finally looked up at you again, a smile lingering on his face.

            “ _Sorry,_ ” he mumbled, but you shook your head.

            “ _Feel better now_?” you smiled, and he leaned back in his chair, his hand pulling away from your face, and he gave you several small nods. 

            “ _That’s not how Tae kissed you, is it_?”

            “ _No,_ ” you whispered in response to his low voice, blinking at the smile on his face.  You were a little embarrassed at how out of breath you felt and hoped he couldn’t see how red your cheeks were.  For once you were grateful he kept his studio so dark.  “Okay,” you said again, placing your hands on your thighs to stand up, but his hand stretched forward again to find your wrist.

            “Will you stay?  _Stay here while I work_?”

            “Uh.  Sure,” you said slowly, sitting back down on the table. “Until I get hungry.”

            “Okay,” he said softly, letting go of your wrist and spinning around in his chair.  “ _But I can just order food.  Then you’ll never have to leave._ ”

            “Hey, Yoongi,” you said, standing up and leaning over the back of his chair, “that’s creepy.”  But he only smirked at you as he jammed his headphones over his ears, and you retreated back again to the couch, content to read and mess around on your phone and let your eyes wander to watch him work when you felt like it.

            And you felt like it a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jungkook laughing at Yoongi will never get old. The little s****
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jungkook welcomes you into his recording studio, and Yoongi and Namjoon try to prep you for ARMY’s reaction.

**Day 48**

            He walked you home after you ate in his studio and held your hand despite how nervous you were about being seen, and you realized that his calm attitude helped calm you down.  There was nothing to worry about if Yoongi wasn’t worried.  That his laid-back attitude wasn’t apathy, it was actually a way to care about people.  And you thought of how high strung Namjoon was, and how Yoongi must be the one to calm him down.  And you thought of how hyper and intense Tae could get, and how Yoongi must be the one to calm him down.  You had always known this, or always assumed it, but knowing and believing are two different things, and you really believed that Yoongi was acting the way he was because he cared about you.  And that made you a break a little when he said goodnight to you at your door, because you always broke a little when you realized someone cared about you.  Not that you didn’t know that people cared about you.  You knew you deserved to be cared for.  But you didn’t always believe it.

 

            Just like you knew you had to leave in six days.  But you didn’t want to believe it.  You knew you still had things on your list you wanted to accomplish before you had to leave.  One of them was sing with Jungkook.  Now, you didn’t particularly think you had a great singing voice, but you had imagined so many songs you wanted Jungkook to cover, and it would be a good way for him to practice English, and since you knew he didn’t hate you by this point, you wondered if he might comply if you asked him nicely.  Still, the problem with talking to Jungkook was tracking him down.  He was more elusive than Yoongi, even, because he never answered his phone and seemed to always be on the move.  So when Namjoon came into the kitchen that morning you asked him about their schedules, and he told you everyone had individual work to do, and when you asked about Jungkook, Namjoon said he would be in the studio, probably dancing or in his Golden Closet.

            “Hey, Y/N,” Namjoon said from his coffee cup, and suddenly you felt like your dad was talking to you, a certain tone in his voice that made you anxious.  “They’re going to air the first Run episode with you at midnight.”

            “Okay,” you mumbled, clearing your dishes.

            “I.  I’m not stupid, you know?” Namjoon sighed, and you whipped around to look at him.

            “What?  I know.  Of course.  Why would you say that?  I don’t think you’re stupid.  Did someone say I did?  Because I didn’t—” you rambled.

            “No, I mean I know people are going to be mean,” he said softly.  “We see what our fans say about us.  And if they think they can say those things to us, I know they will to you.”

            “What things?” you said, your voice barely audible.  You knew what things.  You knew about people calling the boys fat and ugly and “too Asian” (whatever the fuck that meant).  You knew about people stalking them and mobbing them and about sending death threats.  You knew all about those fake fans, because anyone who was like that couldn’t possibly actually care about the boys.

            “Anything, Y/N,” Namjoon sighed.  “That’s the weird thing about being an idol.  You’re not treated as a human most of the time.  So people feel entitled to call you whatever they want and do whatever they want to you.  I hate it, and I hate that we’ve dragged you into it.”

            “You know it had to happen at some point,” you said.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean, one day you will date.  One of you will.  I’m hoping that’s J-Hope first.  And that may be best for him to go first, honestly.  He’s so optimistic, I bet not much fazes him.  But people will be mean to Mina.  And J-Hope will get mad.  And he’ll have to learn how to handle it.  Even if the company approves it and puts out a statement, fans won’t be happy.  Well, the people who call themselves your fans but who will hate it won’t be happy.  And all of you will have to learn how to help him handle it.  Because it does still concern all of you.  Am I making any sense?” you said, pressing your lips together, and Namjoon nodded.  “But better me be exposed first than Mina.”  Namjoon opened his mouth to contradict you, but you continued.  “I mean since I’m not actually dating any of you, and won’t be, the company can practice protecting all of you from scandal.  Then when someone does start dating, maybe it won’t seem as much of a shock to the fans, and the company will have less of a mess to clean up.  Know what I mean?”  Namjoon just stared at you, and you felt again like you were about to get reprimanded by your father, like you had somehow shamed the family, and you looked away, only to see Yoongi standing in the hallway, looking between you two.

            “ _Everything okay_?” he said, his voice still raspy and drowsy.  You nodded, but Namjoon shook his head, so he sighed briefly before pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down on one of the stools.  “ _Come sit here,_ ” he said, patting the other stool.  “ _Please,_ ” he added after taking a sip of coffee.  You walked hesitantly over to him and sat down, biting the inside of your cheek.  “ _What’s wrong_?”  Namjoon started to explain, and he talked too fast and in too much Korean for you this early in the morning, but you got the gist of it.  Run episode, ARMY might be mean, Y/N thinks she deserves it, Y/N clearly bitter.

            “I’m not bitter,” you interjected when you thought you understood what Namjoon was saying.

            “Not bitter,” he corrected you, “ _hurt,_ hurt.  Sad.  You’re making yourself the scapegoat.”

            “Well, aren’t I?” you said, looking at both of them.  “Am I not the guinea pig?”  Neither of them answered, Namjoon staring straight at you and Yoongi sipping his coffee.  “Look, I know that’s not a nice way of putting it.  Which is why you aren’t admitting it.  But that’s what I am.  Look, I hope they’re mean to me.”  Yoongi’s head turned toward you.  “I hope people can learn from others.  I hope people see who they truly are.  I feel sad for people who think being mean is okay.  Those people have been hurt, clearly, and they need help.  Look, humans usually have a flight or fight mentality, right?” you said, looking at Namjoon and then indicating to Yoongi.  “Tell him,” you said, and Namjoon explained “fight or flight” until Yoongi nodded, understanding.  “Fight or flight, so when we’re hurt, we either fight back or we run away.  Which one do you think I am?  _What am I_?”

            “ _Flight,_ ” Yoongi immediately said, and you nodded.

            “Damn straight,” you said proudly, and Yoongi smirked at you.  “Not because I’m afraid of fighting.  Okay, I am.  But I will fight if necessary.  If someone else is getting attacked, I become a momma bear.  _Mom bear,_ ” you said, laughing at the term in Korean, “but if someone attacks me personally, I’ll shut down or run.  Now, the people who are fight will be the people who are mean to me.  Translate, please,” you sighed, pausing so Namjoon could catch Yoongi up.  “They’ll fight because they feel attacked.  What they think is being threatened is their non-existent relationships with each of you individually or collectively.  They will be jealous.  They have some expectation in their head about meeting you one day and you falling madly in love with them or something,” you stopped because Namjoon was about to laugh, but you stopped him, “you know I’m right.  You’re not stupid.  People do this shit.  They’ll see me as a threat and want to take me down.  And I feel sorry for those people.  They are delusional and sad and need help.  And most of them don’t even know it.  They see nothing wrong with being mean.  That’s the sad thing.”  You took a deep breath and got up to pour yourself a glass of water after your tirade, but also because your hands were shaking, and you needed to do something with them.  The kitchen was quiet after Namjoon explained to Yoongi who took another sip of his coffee, and you hated it.  You hated the way they just sat there, even though you knew it was because they were both just thinking, their minds probably on overdrive even if their faces looked dull.  You hated it so much because the silence was screaming, but the image of little Yoongis and Namjoons running around in their heads trying to fix a problem made you laugh, and they both cocked their heads at you.

            “ _Sorry,_ ” you said, smiling, “you both look really serious.”

            “This is serious, Y/N,” Namjoon said, rubbing his temple.

            “ _You really think that_?” Yoongi said slowly.

            “ _What_?”

            “ _Better you than someone else?  That people need to be mean to you so that they can learn a lesson?  You are really okay with what’s about to happen_?”  His questions almost made you jump, and they certainly made you pause, your mouth opening and closing several times.  It was clearly your turn to look serious as you overthought, but the little Y/Ns in your brain were just running into each other and setting fire to everything.  Typical flight behavior.  Oh, and the tears forming in your eyes, too?  Another dead giveaway for flight behavior.  “Hey,” Yoongi said, his voice sounding miles away, and suddenly he was next to you, leaning into your vision.

            “It will be okay.  _Everything will be fine._ ”  You nodded at him, letting Namjoon’s reassuring smile and Yoongi’s calm attitude wash over you.  But it felt like you had a raincoat on, repelling whatever words he said.

You knew he was right.  But that didn’t mean that you believed it.

 

            “Okay, I feel like I don’t even need to ask, but ‘Attention’ by Charlie Puth or ‘I Like Me Better’ by Lauv?” you said a few hours later, leaning back in a chair with your feet up, just relieved you had managed to track Jungkook down in his studio.

            “ _I don’t know that song,_ ” Jungkook said, his head cocked.

            “ _What_?  It reminds me so much of you,” you mumbled, pulling out your phone to find the phone.  You placed it on Jungkook’s desk next to his computer to let it play, and you watched as Jungkook listened, first tentatively and then intensely.  He had such a concentrated look on his face, you wondered if he was like this every time he heard a new song.

            “ _It does kind of sound like me,_ ” he said when the bridge started.

            “ _Right?_ ” you laughed, pleased he agreed. 

            “ _I like it, really, but_ Charlie Puth.”

            “ _Yeah, no surprise,_ ” you rolled your eyes but still smiled.  You pulled “Attention” up next and pushed play, singing along confidently, and Jungkook sat and listened for a few moments, but he couldn’t help joining in during the chorus, but when you sang, he reached over and paused the song and looked at you.

            “ _What did you say_?”

            “Oh,” you said, rewinding it.  “So the chorus, _the chorus,_ says ‘I know that dress is karma, perfume regret,’ right?”  You said it slowly, but he knew the line, so he nodded.  “ _A boy says it.  Clearly._ But what if the song was sung by a girl?  _If a girl says it._ So I change the words, ‘I know that suit is karma, cologne regret.’  _Make sense_?”  Jungkook’s head bobbed and his brow furrowed, his mouth slightly open as he thought.

            “ _I’ve never thought about it like that,_ ” he said, knocking one of his fingers against his teeth.  “ _A lot of songs would change if sung by a girl._   _That’s really cool, Y/N,_ ” Jungkook said, grinning at you.  “Let’s sing.”  And you nodded, because you thought he meant just finish singing the song together, but he pulled down the microphone that hovered over his computer screen until it was level with his mouth.  “Sit here,” he said, standing up and leaving his chair empty for you.  You eyed the microphone hesitantly, but the way Jungkook patted the chair and raised his eyebrows at you was the incentive you needed to take his seat.  You weren’t about to have him make this any harder than it was going to be by his teasing.

            “You know, growing up I wanted a little brother,” you grumbled.

            “ _Then_?” Jungkook said, smiling because he probably knew what you were going to say.

            “Then I met you,” you flashed him a cheesy grin before situating your mouth in front of the microphone.  You had recorded a song once with a friend in college, but that was the only time you had used any sort of equipment, and while you knew your voice was decent, it still wasn’t comfortable.  You could belt songs out at the top of your lungs alone in your car or around your friends when you felt hyper, but this was immensely different.  Still, Jungkook didn’t tease you once you started, his face serious as he adjusted the mic or nodded after you sang a certain part, his head sometimes cocking, which you came to realize was because he didn’t like the note you had hit or the way you had sang in, so you would just try it again until he gave a small nod.

            “ _I’ll have to do my part later,_ ” he said when he seemed to be please with your part.  “It’s a lot of English.”  You nodded and made him go over each word with you a few times so he could feel confidence with pronunciation, but you didn’t pressure him to sing yet, knowing that even though he had known the song beforehand, it was totally different learning the words to a song that was in a different language, so he would need time.  As you traded seats again, you decided to bring up something else you had thought of earlier.

            “Hey, Jungkook, _you know Jisung_?”

            “Yeah, _why_?” he said, already clicking around on his computer. 

            “ _He’s really good at taking pictures,_ ” you said, and Jungkook nodded.

            “ _I remember._ ”

            “ _He wants to be a photographer._   Or wanted to.”

            “ _He should.  He’s good._ ”

            “Yeah, but I think he’s given up.  He used money as an excuse.  He said _cameras are expensive._ ”

            “ _They are!_ ” Jungkook, turning around to pull his baby out of its bag.

            “ _I want to get him one,_ ” you said, and Jungkook eyed you oddly.

            “Camera?  _Why_?”

            “ _He’s my friend,_ ” you shrugged.  “And I think he just needs a push.  Or a sign.  Something so he knows he should try again.  I just wondered if, _I wondered, could you help me_?”

            “ _How so_?” Jungkook said, perking up in his seat a bit.

            “ _Help me look at cameras._ ”

            “Okay!” Jungkook said, spinning around in his chair again.  You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and even though it took him about two minutes to lose you, not only because you couldn’t understand enough of his Korean words, but also because even if he was speaking in English he would have been speaking in camera-speak, so it was like you were trying to decipher two languages at once as he spoke to you, you were glad he was so passionate about finding the right camera.  He seemed to realize the struggle as he pointed out camera after camera, though, talking about its specs and its pros and cons and what it would best be used for.  He started to explain less to you and instead concentrated on the screen, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought.

            “Okay, okay,” he finally said, your eyes glazing over a bit from everything he had said and from trying to look at everything on the screen.  “This one, this one.”  You tried to lean in to see which one he had picked, mainly to see how much it was going to cost you, but your brain was working on converting the amount into dollars when he spun around, blocking the screen.  “This one’s good.”

            “ _Thanks, Jungkook.  Send it to me?_ The link or name.”

            “ _No,_ ” Jungkook said, and you huffed.

            “ _What?  Why?_ ”

            “ _You’ll be gone by the time it comes.  So I’ll just order it with your name on it._ Okay?”

            “Uh,” you said, squinting your eyes at him.  You knew Jungkook could afford it; and you didn’t need to buy it so Jisung would thank you specifically, you wanted him to take pictures, so it didn’t matter how he got the camera, but part of you still felt uncomfortable with someone buying something when it was your idea, almost as if he was buying it for you.

            “ _Think of as a gift from the brother you never had,_ ” Jungkook said, laughing.

            “And never wanted,” you rolled your eyes again but thanked him anyway.  “ _Thank you, really._ ”

                                                                                                                        

            You make time to find Jimin and J-Hope in their practice room after you left Jungkook to work, and you waved to them as you entered, trying not to interrupt them.  They smiled at you and continued working, and you couldn’t help but snap a few pictures.  When they took a break, Jimin slid over to you and asked you a thousand questions about how your day was going, and J-Hope shyly answered your questions about Mina.  And you let Jimin convince you to dance with him, and you mostly just flailed and look uncoordinated, but it may be the last time you get to see Jimin sweating up-close, his face smiling at each step he took, and you laughed as J-Hope laughed at your terrible dancing.  Before you got any sweatier, you told them to try to be home for dinner, and they both promised to be.  You stopped by Namjoon’s studio to tell him, too, and then Yoongi’s.  His face contorted a bit when you asked him to promise to be back at the dorm by seven, so you tried again.

            “ _No promise.  I hope you make it,_ ” you said, smiling from the doorway.  His face relaxed at little, then, and you left him to work, texted Jin about dinner and asked what supplies you should stop for on your way home, and found out Tae was already at home before you left the building. 

            Your heart was full as you and Jin cooked dinner that night, laughing at his absurd jokes and exaggerated noises, and not minding any apparent fussing he did, because his eyes were nothing but kind, and you stopped at one point to give him a hug.  He patted your back slightly awkwardly, and you pushed off of him, straightening your apron and resuming your cooking duties.  He got a little quieter after that, and you were afraid you had upset him, but then Tae was in your way, trying to sneak bites, and you had to push him away, asking him to set the table.  And Jin was loud again by the time everyone came home.  Everyone actually came home.  J-Hope and Jimin hurried to shower so they wouldn’t miss dinner, Yoongi immediately sat down and pulled out his phone, Jungkook talked to Tae about you singing earlier while Namjoon checked on you and then Jin and then on everyone before he settled on giving himself the responsibility of pouring drinks.  You always felt like you and Jin were cooking for an army anytime you made dinner, but Tae and Jungkook helped carry all of the dishes over, and Jimin and J-Hope emerged just in time, rushing to find a seat.  You sat next to Yoongi, who finally put his phone up and smiled at you, but then said,

            “No, sit here,” and he pushed Tae gently out of the seat on his left, and you and Tae got up to exchange seats, shrugging at each other as you did.  You waited for Jin to fill your plate, because he always did, but when he didn’t even reach for it you looked at him, hoping he knew you were a little hurt, but he moved his head in such a way that you turned to look at Yoongi, who had taken your plate and was filling it.  You said a noiseless “Oh,” and watched Jin’s face to see if you could tell what he was thinking, but he only smiled at you.  So you wondered if that’s why Yoongi had asked you to move, but you figured he could have easily filled your plate if you were sitting to his right, so you were a bit confused until after everyone started eating—Jin did make sure everyone let you take the first bite and thank you for cooking for them before they all started—until you felt something pressed under your leg.  You let your eyes glance down for just a second, not long enough for anyone to notice, you hoped, but long enough to see Yoongi’s hand on your chair, halfway hidden by your leg.  He was casually talking to Namjoon about something, his chopsticks in his right hand, and you tried not to shift your weight as you watched his face.  You took a few more bites and then went back to conversing with Jimin who was sitting across from you, trying to ignore Yoongi’s hand moving up the side of your leg until it rested on top of your thigh, his thumb sweeping back and forth over your pants.

            “ _Is this okay_?” he said, and you had to look at him, because even after what he did on the couch a few days ago you were a little surprised he was asking so openly in front of everyone, because no matter how discrete someone thinks they’re being under a table, everyone can tell what’s going on.  So you turned to him to find he was holding a piece of chicken up to your face, and you licked your lips before opening your mouth wide enough for him to give it to you.  You chewed, nodding, trying to ignore the look Namjoon was giving you.  He looked shocked.  And you didn’t blame him.  You felt slightly embarrassed again, but Yoongi didn’t seem bothered at all, and he had initiated, after all, so if he was comfortable, you should be, too.  You were more concerned about making anyone else uncomfortable, though, and relaxed slightly as Namjoon went back to eating.  And Jimin and J-Hope were laughing about something else already, and Tae and Jungkook were too immersed in their food to care.  Your head was turned away from where Jin sat at the head of the table, so you weren’t sure what he thought, but you finally swallowed and said to Yoongi,

            “Yeah, it’s good.”  You put your chopsticks down, full but also unable to concentrate on eating anymore, and placed your elbow on the table, your chin in your hand, leaning toward Yoongi a little.  And your left hand found the top of his for extra clarification that you meant his hand, not the chicken, was okay, and you rubbed your thumb back and forth over it, sometimes hitting his bracelets or moving them up and down his wrist as you listened to everyone’s conversations and laughed with them.

            Your heart was so full that you wondered if all these good memories would make the coming shit storm bearable.  You thought for a moment that it wouldn’t matter.  That these smiles and this hand would be enough to anchor you.  You knew you were cared for and loved and protected.  You knew everything would be fine.  You knew you would be fine.

            But there is a difference between knowing and believing something.  And even though your heart was full of warmth and happiness, it had room for fear and doubt as you went to sleep, terrified about what midnight would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Ft. a little rant by me about how ARMY needs to let the boys live.  
> 2\. Jungkook needs to cover "Attention." How has he not yet? It's perfect for him.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You deal with the wrath of ARMY by getting drunk with Jackson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, mention of masturbation, alcohol.  
> Ft. Jackson from GOT7 again (love you, buddy)

**Day 49**

            Dreams of snowy fields and burning forests.  Rushing water and spinning pennies.  Toes curled over the edge and flashing lights.  Sirens and crashing metal.  Hot breaths and ripped clothes.  Sobbing, sobbing, breaking, leaking out, drowning, everything is drowned by one touch.

            You awake with a gasp, unable to move, your heart rate only increasing in its realization of your body’s paralysis.  You’ve momentarily forgotten everything.  The walls are unfamiliar, the AC sounds bizarre, the blanket around you only seems to suffocate you.  You want to kick it off, push it off, but your limbs won’t move, and the panic is too much, your eyes starting to water as you scream in your head.  You scream and scream and scream, and suddenly your door is flung open and someone’s rushed to your bed, kneeling beside you and saying your name, but as his hand flies to your forehead you can’t seem to make a sound, and soon he’s gone, and you continue to try to struggle, but you know resisting will only make it worse, so you stop screaming and let your limbs be numb, wondering how long it would last this time.

            “Y/N?” someone’s voice, full of worry and sleep, was calling to you.  “ _Shit, is she breathing_?”

            “ _Yeah, but she hasn’t moved or said anything._ ”

            “Y/N, wake up,” Yoongi said.  It was Yoongi.  And Jin.  Kneeling by your bed, their faces close in the dark.  You blinked and turned your head toward them, too tired to express how happy you were to see them and to be able to move your head again.  “Hey, what happened?” Yoongi said, bringing his hand up to brush your hair out of your face.

            “ _Bad dream,_ ” you muttered.

            “ _Really_?” Jin asked, not sounding convinced.

            “Couldn’t move,” you said.

            “ _Is that normal_?” Yoongi said, and in your fearful mind, the question sounded like judgement, as if if you answered yes he would never want to see you again.

            “ _No,_ ” you answered honestly, and your body, having released you from its hold, also released a few tears down your face, “it’s been months.”

            “Okay, okay,” Yoongi said calmly, stroking your head.  “ _You’re okay.  Go back to sleep._ ”  You closed your eyes as his fingers raked through your hair, your exhausted body giving in.

            Into dreams of empty swings and setting suns, umbrellas with holes and untied shoes, late night whispers and secret smiles.

 

            You wake up to texts messages.  So many text messages.  And missed calls.  And something missing from your head.  And a drenched shirt and sticky forehead.  And, oh, god, so many text messages.  People you haven’t heard from all summer.  Friends who must have already seen the episode, considering it had been the afternoon in the states when it was posted.  Friends who clearly recognized you.  You with BTS.  The texts were all pretty similar, and you read through them all with a smile growing on your lips.

            “Y/N, there’s this girl who looks just like you in the new Run episode.  Did you see yet?”

            “Wait.  Y/N.  That’s you.  Why are you in the new Run episode?”

            “Y/N, what what what explain that’s you isn’t it omggggggg what is happening?”

            “Hey, so, uh, you know BTS?  What the heck.”

            “Have you been in Korea this whole summer?  Did you actually win that contest?”

            “You KNOW BTS lks;fjal;skdf GIRL TEXT ME BACK WRIHGT NOW.”

            “um, so, you look cute and all, glad to see you laughing and having a grand ol’ time with your new friends who, oh yeah, are just the boys of BTS like you’re standing next to KIM FUCKIGN NAMJOON how did you not pass out? I hate you I love you tell me everything.”

            Rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you sent the same text to each friend who had texted.

            “Hi!  It’s a long story that I’ll tell you when I can.  Yes, that’s me in the episode.  Yes, I won the contest.  I can’t say much else yet.  Please please don’t spread my name around much, okay?  I’ll be home in five days, so let’s catch up then.”  Each of your friends immediately texted back another dazzling variety of texts.

            “OHHH MYYYY GODDDDDDDDD HURRY HOME I’m DYING RIP ME.”

            “Y/N, I can not believe you.  Please bring Jungkook home with you.  Put him in your suitcase.  I don’t care if he doesn’t fit.  He’s my soulmate.  Help me out here.”

            “I have a million questions so I’m going to go write them down.”

            “Shit, I already posted on Twitter that I know you.  People are freaking out.  Haven’t you seen?”

            You hadn’t.  You didn’t want to, not yet.  You left your phone and went to the gym, trying to shake the numbness in your body and clear your head.

            You had one more English lesson for the boys, and you needed to concentrate.  You needed to do your best.  You needed to be useful and prove that you belonged here, that you were worthy of winning the spot in the competition.  You had to prove it to yourself and to any ARMY who doubted you already.  You weren’t sure which would be easier to convince.

 

            As one o’clock rolled around, you found yourself in the studio, getting your hair and makeup done by a random staff person, and everyone seemed on edge around you.  The tension makes you want to run away and choke on your own lungs, and you almost do choke when your phone buzzes—it’s been buzzing all morning, which is so rare that you’ve been wanting to turn it off completely—and Mina’s name appeared.  You quickly answered it, your fingers trembling slightly.

            “Y/N!” you heard on the other line, and you smiled, knowing Mina was smiling, too.

            “Mina,” you said back, “how are you?”

            “Great, didn’t call to talk about me.  How are you?”  You paused long enough for her to clear her throat.  “Is it that bad?”

            “I don’t know, I haven’t looked yet,” you finally said, your eyes darting around at the staff in the room, but most of them didn’t speak English or were too busy to care.  “So you tell me.  Is it really bad?”

            “No!  There are so many people saying they love you already!” Mina’s chipper voice grated against your ears, and you physically winced.

            “Mina, don’t be friend Mina right now, okay?  Be cold, business Mina.”

            “Hey—”

            “And tell me how bad it is.  Is this going to hurt the boys?”

            “Y/N,” Mina said, but her voice died away and you sighed.

            “Are they mad at me or the boys?”  You waited for as long as you could take it, knowing why she wasn’t answering.  “Okay, good, as long as the boys are fine.”

            “Y/N—”

            “I have to go finish getting ready for our lesson.  I miss you,” you said, trying to sound cheery.

            “I miss you, too!  Good luck.  Everything will be okay, you know?”

            “Yeah,” you said with a forced smile.  Even if she couldn’t see you, you figured faking it might help you actually feel happier.  It didn’t, but maybe no one would know how you were really feeling this way.  “I’ll talk to you later.”

            Of course you shouldn’t have looked.  Ignorance is bliss is complete bullshit, but it was still true in many ways.  You should have just lived with the knowledge that people didn’t like you.  You believed that well enough already.  But that part of you that wanted to prove to yourself that you didn’t deserve to know the boys or be around them moved your finger to your phone and to Twitter.  And then to YouTube.  And then to VLive.  The comments didn’t surprise you.  The fact that people could say them still shocked you, because you could never imagine doing that to anyone, but they all made sense to you.  They ranged from simple questions about who you were and what you were doing there to negative comments on your appearance to, yep, there they were, the fans out to get you.  Find where you lived.  Hunt you.  Shit, the ARMY detectives had probably already learning everything about you.  The comments were in Korean and English alike, and who knows what other languages, and you hastened to send your mother a text with shaking hands.

            “Mom, let me know if anyone starts asking questions or anything weird, just ignore them all or politely decline, okay?”  You were glad she didn’t respond, considering how late it was back home, and you just prayed no one had bothered her.

            “Y/N, you ready?” you heard someone ask, and you turned in the chair to see Namjoon smiling reassuringly from the doorway.  You stilled your trembling hands as you returned your phone to your jacket pocket and stood up, giving him a nod even though, no, you weren’t ready.

 

            It was odd, you thought to yourself, how much easier it was becoming to just genuinely be happy around the boys.  Despite how strained you felt, and despite how clearly strained they all looked—Jimin, most of all, which about broke your god damn heart—their smiles made you smile, and you thought again about how you could be momentarily happy, because, after all, that’s all happiness was, a fleeting emotion you should capture when it came rushing through.  So you positioned yourself one last time on a pillow in front of the boys, the room once again filled with flowers courtesy of Tae—who had no shame in letting everyone know in perfect English he had bought them, which made some of the boys roll their eyes, but only made you feel proud of him and appreciated by him—and began your last lesson with them.

            It was going to be a hard lesson, you warned them, and you meant academically, though at the back of your mind you were also thinking about how you would never do this again, and it became a little emotionally difficult to deal with as well.  But the boys, as always, had accommodating attitudes and focused on reviewing every word they had learned plus a few extra they had picked up.  They asked good questions, more questions than they had asked before, perhaps also realizing they wouldn’t get a chance to ask you again.  And they were compliant even when you went over the parts of speech and finally practiced some grammar with them, hoping to give them a few tools for stringing all of the words together.  To have a little fun you taught them how mad libs worked—you tried not to look too shocked that they had never done one before—mainly because you wanted them to practice the parts of speech, but also because the stories always ended in laughs once all the random words were put in.  You couldn’t help but laugh as Namjoon yelled “ARMY” for each time you needed a noun, while Tae in a deeply serious voice always said “bag,” and everyone laughed when Jin suggested his own name for one and ended up being a hideous monster in the story.  Mad libs were a mess, but the boys had helped you realize a little more how sometimes messes were good.  After doing a few of them, you slowed things down by looking at their journals, encouraging each of them to keep it up.  And you found yourself saying,

            “Let me know if you ever need any help.  Just contact me anytime.  I’ll always respond.  Unless I’m sleeping.”  You had said it because it was something you always told your students.  If they needed help, that’s what you were there for.  Sure, few of them ever took you up on it, but the offer still stood.  So you said it professionally, not really thinking about who you were saying it to.  You just meant it as a teacher, and you wrapped up, letting the boys thank you and bow to you one last time.  And Jimin and Tae hugged you, maybe just in gratitude, or maybe because they could see you crumbling a bit.  And when their arms left you, and you untangled the mic, you become a little more unraveled to the point where when you bent down to pick up your pillow and help clean up like you always did, you just stood there with it, your eyes going a little numb.  A hand on the small of your back made you breathe again and shake your head, and you looked up to see Yoongi beside you.

            “ _Come on,_ ” he said, taking the pillow from your hand and throwing it with the rest.  You lowered your head slightly, not wanting anyone to see the tears coming to your eyes, even though that was pointless, because everyone saw you leaving the room with Yoongi.  Even those who politely didn’t stare still noticed.  Once you were through the door, Yoongi’s hand left your back and found your hand, and you couldn’t even return the small squeeze he gave your fingers as he led you to his studio.  He let go and let you gravitate toward the couch, where you immediately slumped down onto your side, curling into yourself, your tears coming silently.  He sat across from you in his chair, raking his hands through his hair, watching you.  And he waited as long as he could, letting you cry, before he sighed.

             “Come here,” he said, softly but demanding, patting his lap.  You stilled visibly and sniffled, sitting up but shaking your head at him.

            “No.  I’m so fat, I’ll squish you,” you said, trying to smile with a few tears still streaming down your face.  Yoongi blinked once before his brow furrowed.

            “ _Who said that_?”

            “I just did.” You laughed, wiping your face.

            “ _Who said you were fat_?” Yoongi’s voice was sharper, his softness leaving.

            “No one,” you muttered, sighing at yourself for saying anything.  Yoongi only looked at you for a moment longer before he turned back to his computer and started to look on the internet for something.  “No, Yoongi, honestly,” you said, rushing to him and pulling on the back of his chair.  You stepped back immediately when he turned around to look at you, his eyes sharp, and you sunk backwards onto the table.

            “ _Give me your phone,_ ” he said, his voice gentle again but still demanding.

            “ _Why—_ ” you start, but he locked his computer and stuck out his hand, and for some reason you slowly put your phone in it.

            “ _No more looking at them._ Stay here.  _I’m going to talk to Namjoon,_ ” he said, putting your phone in his pocket and walking to the door.  You got up lamely to follow him, but he turned at the door and put his hand out to you.  “Stay.  _Please.  I don’t want you to see me like this._ ”

            “ _Like what_?” you said, confused.  His face looked concerned, but his eyes, his eyes looked furious.

            “ _Pissed,_ ” he spat.

            “Yoongi, please, _please, don’t, it’s okay,_ ” you pleaded, knowing he wasn’t mad at you, but you were still the cause of his anger, and you couldn’t stand that, and even though his eyes softened slightly, his grip on the doorknob tightened.

            “ _Please just stay here for a minute.  I’ll be right back.  Just,_ ” he sighed, looking around the room, “play piano for me, okay?”

            “Okay,” you muttered as he left.  But you couldn’t immediately do as he asked, instead sitting down on the couch again and taking several deep breaths.  Your hands were itching, begging to do something, though, and you went to the piano and limply played one note with one finger, taking a long time before dragging the rest of your hands to the keys.  You played the only songs you had memorized, but they all became slow and soft under your exhausted touch, and you played until you ran out of songs to play.  You sighed, turning around, only to see Yoongi leaning against his door, smiling softly at you.

            “Come on,” he said, beckoning you with his hand, “Namjoon wants to talk.”  You nodded weakly, that odd feeling returning like you were in trouble and being sent to the principal’s office as you followed Yoongi to Namjoon’s studio.  Namjoon’s smile wasn’t reassuring when you entered, it was forced.  His face was too worried to be reassuring right now, but Yoongi seemed to have calmed down, and he looked so relaxed as he sat next to Namjoon. You hesitated for a second, about to sit on the ground before Yoongi pulled on your hand, and, reluctantly, you sat sideways in his lap, his arm wrapping around behind you and resting lightly on your hip.  You really felt like a petulant child, now, with your hands crossed in front of you while you ignored Namjoon’s stare.

            “Y/N,” Namjoon said, his voice barely audible.  “First, I want to apologize.”

            “I already told you it doesn’t matter, Namjoon,” you said, not sounding as convincing as you would have liked.

            “Right, of course, that’s why you’re not upset then,” he said, and you looked at him, all manner of gentleness gone from his face.  “Yoongi and I aren’t upset, either.  We love that this has happened,” he said sarcastically.

            “Okay, okay,” you muttered, “I get it.  Obviously I’m upset.  But who wouldn’t be?  But I’ll be fine.  It’s okay.”

            “ _It’s not okay,_ ” Yoongi growled, and you felt his hand tighten on your waist.

            “It’s not,” Namjoon said, “and we want you to know that.  To believe we didn’t want this to happen.  We want to protect you.  But we also know how hard that will be.  Maybe even impossible.”

            “Stop apologizing, please,” you sighed. 

            “We thought, maybe if we did a V Live, let the fans see you with us—”

            “No,” you said, cutting Namjoon off.  “Do you really think that would go well?”

            “It’s just, on V Live, anything negative said can be addressed immediately.”

            “Namjoon, Yoongi,” you said, looking at the both of them, “I hear you.  You’re trying to help.  And I appreciate it, really.  I’m very touched that you want to do that.  But people are still nasty to you on live videos.  That’s how the world is.  People are awful.  It may only make things worse.  And I don’t want that for any of you.”

            “But it may help,” Namjoon muttered.

            “Or make things worse.  Look, _do you want me to_?  I’ll do it if you tell me to,” you said.

            “ _No,_ ” Yoongi said sharply, “ _we’re not going to make you do anything you don’t want to._ ”  Namjoon nodded.

            “Okay.  _May I have my phone, please?_ ”

            “ _I don’t think_ —”

            “Give me my phone Yoongi.  I’m an adult, I can make dumb decisions if I want.  This is who I am.  I’m a mess.  I say I can handle things that I clearly can’t.  But who can handle this?  How do you handle it?”  You voice cracked, and the way he was looking at you made you want to crack even more, but you sat up straight, holding out your hand.

            “ _It’s hard.  Some days it doesn’t seem worth it.  But we have each other.  Some days you just have to think of the good and outweigh the bad.”_   Yoongi spoke softly, and you paused for a minute when you heard Namjoon translating.  You hadn’t asked him to, and for a moment you had honestly forgotten he was even there, and you sighed when he was done.

            “Well, _I’m really bad at that_.  Seeing the good in things.  _Please give me my phone._ ”

            “I’m not either, you know,” Yoongi said, and his English made you blink before you registered what he said.

            “ _What?_ ”

            “ _Good at seeing the good._   I had others, to help me, _to_ _learn to be more positive_.  _And to keep going when I’m not._   _I still need them and have them help sometimes._ ”

            “Well good for you,” you said, sounding more annoyed and angry than you would have liked.  You sighed again and tried to clarify.  “ _I’m glad_ you have people to help you.  _Please give me my phone._ ”  But Yoongi only looked up at you.  “ _I am sorry_ that sounded mean.  _I genuinely am happy for you_. _And I’m grateful_ for your help.  But right now, I want to run away, okay?  _Please_ let go,” you whispered, and Yoongi’s arm immediately left your back, and he dug around in his pocket to find your phone, pushing on your leg slightly, indicating he wanted you to get up.  You did, and stood still for a moment, well aware that the two boys were watching you.  But without another word you turned and left.  And neither of them stopped you.

 

            It was always extremes with you.  One or the other.  You either cared too immensely what people thought and shied away from everyone, afraid to even be seen, or you had a fuck-it attitude and knew people wouldn’t like you no matter what you did, and you were definitely feeling the latter as you left the studio, your face feeling immediately refreshed when it met the cool air.  You kept your phone on, a good sign that you weren’t trying to disappear completely, but didn’t even text Jisung for a ride.  You just walked.  And walked.  Looked in shop windows, bowed politely to people, stood at street corners, read and re-read signs.  Snapped pictures of birds, smiled at a baby holding its mother’s hand, took deep breaths.  You met anyone’s gaze that met yours and pushed down any irrational thoughts you had about them judging you until it felt like you couldn’t push anything else into your empty stomach but food.  You found a hole-in-the-wall place that looked affordable, and the portions were huge, and you ordered a drink and then another, which, in your current state, wasn’t a good idea, but you weren’t about making good decisions today, clearly, as you checked Twitter again.  And like your friends and Mina had said, there were people who seemed to like you.  People who had figured out you had won that contest.  But mostly people were just jealous and ugly about it, and your mouth turned sour.  You threw your phone down on the table at one point to take another drink, ignoring the looks of two middle-aged businessmen at the booth next to you, and grabbed your phone again after your throat burned.

            “Hey, masturbation buddy!”  You texted Jackson, wanting to see someone, but not anyone affiliated with BTS.  Even he didn’t really fit the criteria, but you felt desperate.

            “Hey, Y/N!  Isn’t that, what do you call it, an oxymoron?”  He responded back after you had taken three more sips.

            “Come drink with me.”

            “It’s seven.”

            “So you’re busy?” you sent.

            “Not totally.”

            “IDK what that means.  Come or not.  I leave soon, come see me?”

            “Is Namjoon with you?”

            “No.  Why,” you sent. “Are you secretly in love with me?  Or, gasp, him?”

            “Send me the address,” he texted, and you did, ordering another drink while you waited.  It was almost an hour before he arrived; you should’ve known better.  He was busy, and traffic was terrible in Seoul at night—no, all the time—but he had come.  He came in with a cap and a mask on, followed by two body guards trying their hardest to be inconspicuous but failing miserably.  The two businessmen watched the entire scene unfold, and you wondered if they were just mildly entertained or if they recognized Jackson.  His security sat nearby and ordered some food while Jackson slid into the booth across from you.

            “Ja—” you started to shout, but when he cocked his head at you, you started making jibberish noises instead to avoid yelling his name. “Ja, ja ja jah.”

            “Oh, wow,” Jackson said, taking his mask off and laughing, “you’re really drunk, huh?”

            “Nah,” you said, pouring him a drink and calling the waitress over.  “You hungry?”

            “Always,” he said, flashing his charismatic smile at the waitress as he ordered some food.  “So what are you doing?” he asked when she left.

            “I was tabooing.  Doing a Korean taboo until you came along.”

            “What?”

            “I was drinking alone,” you whispered, leaning across the table.

            “Ah, scandalous,” he muttered.  “What’s the occasion?”

            “Everyone hates me,” you groaned, sinking your head into your arms sprawled on the table.

            “Uh, why do you say that?”  You pulled out your phone for an answer, scrolling through the posts on Twitter to show him.

            “Shit, Y/N,” Jackson muttered, taking another drink.  “People are dicks.  Fuck ‘em.”  For some reason, this made you laugh hysterically.  (It was probably the alcohol.  It was definitely the alcohol.)

            “Do you know any non-idol famous people?” you said, sitting up and blinking a thousand times to try to steady yourself.

            “What, like movie stars?”

            “No, I mean non-famous people.”

            “Oh, yeah, sure, tons,” Jackson said, smiling as the waitress brought his food.

            “Oh.  So do people bother them because they know you?”

            “Sometimes, yeah,” he shrugged, taking a few bites.  You had literally just eaten, but you reached with your chopsticks to steal some of his.

            “How do they deal with that?  How do you?”

            “With a lot of suppressed emotions,” Jackson laughed, and you did, too.

            “Oh, good, I thought I was doing this all wrong.”

            “What did Namjoon say?” Jackson asked, his mouth full of noodles.  You chose to take another drink instead of answering.  “Man, I bet he’s pissed.  At himself more so, I’m sure.  That guy’s too hard on himself,” he mused.  You could only nod.

            “Why am I telling a stranger this instead of him?” you muttered after another drink.  You didn’t even mean Namjoon.  You meant Yoongi.  But your brain was spinning, and you just assumed Jackson knew what you meant.

            “Hey, I’m not a stranger,” he said, sounding hurt.

            “Why am I telling someone I’ll never see again instead of him?”

            “Hey!  You don’t want to see me again?” Jackson huffed, his lips pouty.

            “Never again, you’re such an ass,” you sighed.

            “What?  What the fuck did I do?” he hissed, but he still laughed.  “I literally left work to come see you.”

            “You said you weren’t busy!” you whined, slumping your head down again but then immediately bringing it back up, because closing your eyes made you nauseous. 

            “I’m always busy, Y/N.”

            “Oh, ho ho, Mr. Important,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

            “But everyone needs to eat,” he shrugged, and you stole another bite of his food.  “So, you’re really leaving soon?”

            “Of course,” you said with your mouth full, “in like five days.”

            “Damn.  So Namjoon hasn’t convinced you to stick around?”

            “What?  No.  The contest was just for the summer.”

            “Yeah, but,” Jackson said nonchalantly, taking another drink and watching you under his cap, “he really likes you.”

            “No,” you said, shaking your hands at him before raising them over your head, smiling like an idiot. “Yoongi likes me.”

            “What?” Jackson stuttered.  “Really?  But Namjoon…”

            “Is my new best friend.  And I’m his newest best friend.  I have replaced you, so sorry,” you said, grinning.

            “You’re the ass,” he mumbled, finishing his food.  “So Yoongi hasn’t convinced you to stay, then?”

            “He hasn’t asked,” you said, staring off and making eye contact with the two businessmen who, for goodness sakes, had been here before you got here and were still here, didn’t they have wives to go home to or something?  You frowned at them.  You frowned at Jackson’s question.  You frowned at yourself for not really answering.  “Sorry I dragged you away from work,” you mumbled, looking back at Jackson.  He just smiled.

            “No problem.  It’s a lonely life, Y/N, and we’re often too busy, or think we’re too busy to hang out with people.  It helps when people ask to see us.  And it’s even better when they don’t give up after a try or two.  I’m sure Namjoon, and Yoongi, feel the same way.”  You hummed and nodded.

            “Can you repeat all of that?  I feel like it was really important.”  Jackson laughed and complied, basically saying the same thing again.  You tried to let it sink in.  It really did seemed important.

            “I’m glad you were here this summer,” Jackson said then.  “Namjoon texted me more than usual, and even if it was mostly about you, I appreciated hearing from him more.  So thanks.”

            “Pfft,” you blew air between your lips, trying not to blush at what he said, but then you nodded, the alcohol really starting to make your limbs heavy.  “If I helped at all, then I’m happy.”

            “Good,” Jackson said, and even though you insisted he didn’t have to, he paid for everything, and you gave a cute smile to the business men as you left, who embarrassingly looked away, their own cheeks flush from drinking, and even though you insisted you could take a taxi, Jackson demanded you let him give you a ride.  So you laughed in the car and tried to keep your eyes open so nothing spun, and even though you insisted you wouldn’t miss him, you knew you really would, and you thanked him for all of his help, patting his shoulder before you got out of the car.

            “Best of luck, Jackson,” you said, nodding your head repeatedly at him.

            “You too, Y/N,” he said, placing his hand on your shoulder, too.  “Hey, Y/N,” he said again when you got out of the car, leaning half way out the door as you stood on the sidewalk, looking back at him.  “If it doesn’t work with Yoongi, I’ll be—”

            “Bye Jackson!” you yelled, slamming the door in his face, but you smiled as the car drove away.

 

            Your feet were always going to take you somewhere.  What a dumb, drunk thought.  That’s literally what feet do.  Your brain was in your head, not your feet.  Your brain was supposed to control your feet.  You had said you wanted to run away, so why were you in front of Yoongi’s studio?  And why was your hand knocking on the door?  And why did Yoongi look so nice.  That’s a lame word.  Why did Yoongi look so gentle?  Soft?  Huggable?  Why didn’t he look mad at you or hurt or angry?  Why did he look at you with such kind eyes?

            “ _I thought you wanted to run away,_ ” he said as you swayed slightly in his doorway.

            “I did.  I am.  I’m here, aren’t I?” you whined, admitting defeat, and he opened the door wider and took your hand, helping you to sit on the couch.

            “ _You’re really drunk,_ ” he said, sitting on the table and watching your eyes blink and dart across his face.

            “Yep,” you said, smiling at the way the word popped out of your mouth.  “Yep, yep,” you licked your lips and ran your teeth over your bottom lip several times, amazed at how numb it felt.  But the smile on your lips died when you saw Yoongi looking at you.  “ _Sorry,_ ” you muttered.  But he just looked at you for a few moments before saying anything, wanting to make sure you weren’t going to fall over or throw up.

            “ _Do you feel better now_?” he finally said.

            “ _No,_ _I feel worse._ That’s the point,” you muttered, and Yoongi tsked before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.  You copied his movement and forced your eyes to stay open and focus on him, which only made your face squint and your mouth open and close several times.

            “ _Can you walk_?” he said after what seemed like an hour.

            “Physically?” you said, bringing your feet up and placing them on the table beside him.  “ _Yes, look, feet._ ”

            “Let’s try,” he said, standing up and reaching his hand down to you.  “ _You need some water and sleep._ ”

            “No, I need you,” you said, crashing yourself into his chest as you stood up.  His arm stiffened before he placed it on the back of your head, but you lunged backwards, pushing off of his chest gentle before screaming, “I need you girl!”

            “ _Oh my god,_ ” he muttered, but there was a slight smile on his face.  “ _Let’s go._ ”  You were still mumbling the words to “I Need U” in broken, terrible Korean as he took your hand and led you out of his studio.  Your feet sure seemed to be working okay.  Left foot, right foot.  It was going so well, you were so proud of the way your legs followed after Yoongi.  You didn’t notice anything else, but you did sometimes look down at both of your hands clasped onto his, and you sometimes brought them up in front of you as you walked and opened them to see what was in them.  And every time you were surprised to find it was Yoongi’s hand.  You would look at his face, but he had a mask on, so you weren’t sure if he smiled or not, and sometimes he didn’t respond at all, or he shook his head at you before making sure it was safe to cross a street.  He leaned you against the wall in the elevator and let go of your hand when you were in the building, leaning against the other side, and you pouted at him, and he took off his mask, so you knew he was smirking at you now, and as the doors opened you practically pounced on his hand again, swinging it between the both of you as you marched down the hallway.  You were glad no one was in the kitchen or living room when you both came in, because you knew you were not a pretty sight to see, and you ran into both stools on two separate occasions because Yoongi apparently only needed the fridge light to get you a glass of water, while you felt like the whole world was too dark and getting darker by the second.

            “Hey,” Yoongi said, when you stood in your bathroom, your toothbrush in hand.  “ _Brush._ ”  You hummed in response and did as he said, struggling now to keep your eyes open.  And you closed them a bit, much to your relief, when you washed your face, and you were surprised to find Yoongi standing by the sink when you opened them again, watching you as you dried yourself.

            “ _What are you doing_?” you asked.

            “ _Caring,_ ” he said simply, and the haze in your eyes was fading a bit, so you focused on the way his dark hair fell into his face and the way his lips were shaped.  They were shaped a lot like yours, you suddenly noticed.

            “Yoongi,” you said suddenly, boldly, “I gotta pee.”

            “Oh, okay,” he said, scrambling to leave the room.

            “Can you bring me some clothes?  Second drawer.  No!  Top drawer!” you shouted through the closed door.  You maybe heard him muttering or talking to himself, and after you washed your hands you opened the door to see him standing there, holding what looked like the entire content of your top drawer.  “Geez,” you said, laughing, “thanks.”  You took them all from him and shut the door again, picking the most comfortable and biggest tops and bottoms, feeling better already.  You brushed your teeth, or brushed them again, you couldn’t remember if you had, and it felt like you hadn’t, before opening the door again, only to see Yoongi pacing across your floor.  He stopped when he saw you, and you pounced onto your bed, patting the space in front of you.

            “Mingi,” you cooed, and he stilled even further, his eyes darkening slightly.  “Mingi.  Wait, that’s not your name.  Min. Yoongi.  Mingi!  Shit, sorry, you probably hate that,” you laughed, but you stopped when you saw his face.  He looked like he had looked after you wiped your wet hand on him after doing the dishes that one day.  He looked so angry, but you scrambled to your knees, rushing to the edge of the bed to get a better look at him.  He backed away slightly but then closed the distance, taking a few steps closer until his knees hit the bed.  “Ah!” you said, pointing your finger up at him, “you don’t hate it.  _You like it._   Is this your flustered face?  Your I-can’t-show-I-like-it face?” you breathed excitedly, but you whimpered when he grabbed your wrist, afraid you had read him wrong again.  He stared down at you and you swallowed, biting your lip.  “ _Sorry,_ ” you mumbled.  “In my defense, I am drunk.  It’s a bad defense, and you should totally make sure I remember tomorrow I said this, that, so I know to not again, I just—”

            “Yeah, I like it.  _You can call me that,_ ” Yoongi said, his voice low.

            “Shit,” you said, laughing as he dropped your arm and you fell back on your bottom on your bed.  You quickly recovered, though, and said, “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

            “Never,” he smiled before running a hand through his hair and mumbling a quick, “ _Good night._ ”

            “Wait,” you stuttered as he started to leave, “stay?”  And you couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver that rippled over your body when he looked back at you, his face clearly conflicted.

            “ _I don’t think,_ ” he started, and when he paused you seized the opportunity.

            “That’s a lie,” you laughed.  “If you stopped thinking you would die.  It’s not like I bite.”  And you scurried under your covers, patting the space next to you.  “No, seriously,” you said, looking at him, “I’m not into biting.”  Yoongi may have scoffed at that, but he sat down on the edge of your bed and started to take off his shoes.  He moved so slowly, though, that you got tired of waiting and curled onto your side, watching his back.  When he finally turned around, he looked at you once before lowering himself down on top of the covers, lying on his side to face you.

            “ _I want you to touch me,_ ” you said as soon as he was beside you, but he frowned.

            “ _You’re really drunk,_ ” Yoongi muttered, staring at you.

            “Not really.  Not anymore,” you mumbled back, your eyes flickering over his face.  “Just touch my head,” you said, pulling your own arm out from under the covers to guide his hand to your head.  You plopped it down before curling your arms back across your chest.

            “ _You’ll forget this in the morning, right_?” Yoongi said as his fingers started to brush through your hair.  You hummed in response and smiled as you closed your eyes.

            “ _No,_ Mingi, _I’ll never forget today._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Ft. another rant by yours truly about how ARMY needs to chill. I cried writing this day. It's so easy to be kind to others, so just do that?  
> 2\. Mingi™ ® © is mine.  
> 3\. Yoongi being all caring, daw.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi shares the song they wrote for you and refuses to leave your side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, mention of suicide attempt.  
> Ft. another poem by me, so please don't steal or judge too harshly.

**Day 50**

           You didn’t forget.  You didn’t forget how yesterday made you feel.  You’ll never forget it.  Because you have felt it often, and you will feel it more heavily now.  You’ll feel unworthy, ugly, and hated, and you’ll believe you deserve it.

           But then there was Yoongi, asleep beside you, his mouth slightly open, his hands pressed in-between his knees.  You couldn’t forget how he made you feel, either; safe, protected, cared for.  It was hard to believe, because he seemed so above you, so far out of your reach.  But you felt torn, not sure what to believe as everything seemed conflicting and confusing.  You sat up in bed and drank the rest of your water before going to use the bathroom and brush your teeth.  It was past eight, but Yoongi hadn’t stirred, didn’t even move when you got back under the covers.  And you felt like you were invading his privacy a bit, but you couldn’t help but watch his face as he slept.  He looked so peaceful, but his mouth was opening, and you jumped slightly when you heard how groggy and deep his voice was.

           “ _I’m cold._ ”

           “Ya, why didn’t you get under the covers?” you said, throwing the blankets off of yourself and onto him.

           “ _You were drunk,_ ” he mumbled, his eyes still closed.  You saw him shift a little under the blankets.

           “ _I’m not now,_ ” you said, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped.  Yoongi’s eyes were open by the time you looked back at him, and you gave him a small smile before the blanket was thrown back over your face.  You could feel him rustling around a bit, and as you wiggled your head free, you felt something touch your hand.

           “Oh, hey,” you said, realizing Yoongi had gotten under the covers finally.  “God, you’re freezing.”

           “ _You’re warm,_ ” he smiled, his eyes closing contently.

           “I have great body heat,” you said proudly.  “ _I’m hot._ ”  One of Yoongi’s eyes opened to look at you, and he smirked.  “ _Not like that,_ geez.”  He hummed and closed his eyes again, scooting a little closer to you until your knees were knocking, and you felt one of his fingers drawing patterns on your knee.  “Hey,” you said, clearing your throat, “did you know I’m bigger than you?  _You’re tiny._ ”

           “ _What_?” he said, opening his eyes, a smile on his face.  “ _What are you talking about_?”

           “Like, I totally weigh more than you,” you said.

           “ _I doubt it._ So what?”

           “ _It’s not weird_?  It’s not weird, me being bigger than you?  I mean, you’re taller, but I mean pound, kilograms wise.  _You’re so skinny_.”

           “ _Do you only like big guys_?” Yoongi asked, his smile turning into a smirk.

           “ _No,_ ” you muttered, “I just mean…”

           “ _That’s society telling you something that isn’t true,_ ” Yoongi said, stretching his legs out and arching his back slightly before curling back up even closer to you.  “ _It’s not true that the guy should be bigger than the girl. Or weigh more.  Or be stronger._ None of that matters.  You know, right?”

           “Yeah,” you mumbled, watching his eyes trace your face.  “ _It’s hard to remember, to believe sometimes._ ”

           “ _Just listen to me,_ ” Yoongi said, closing his eyes again and giving a small nod.

           “Oh?  Why should I?” you teased.

“ _I’m a genius,_ ” he said a-matter-of-factly.  You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was right, so you just hummed and closed your eyes again, enjoying the comfort of the bed and the sound of Yoongi breathing and the feeling of his hand on your knee.  You were a little afraid he had fallen back asleep after a few minutes, though, so you wiggled one of your hands forward under the blankets until you found his shirt, tugging on it gently.

           “Yoongi?” you whispered, and his eyes flew open.

           “Yeah?”

           “ _I’m sorry I ran,_ ” you said, smiling at how awake he suddenly looked.

           “ _As long as you always come back,_ ” he said, taking your fingers off his shirt and placing your hand palm up in his, almost as if his hand was back hugging yours.

           “ _I’m not a dog,_ ” you muttered, your cheeks flushing, and Yoongi laughed.

           “ _Is this okay_?”

           “ _Yeah,_ ” you said, letting his fingers move back and forth between yours, but you couldn’t hide how they trembled.

           “Y/N,” Yoongi said, closing his eyes again, a smile on his face, “ _you really need to let people touch you more often.  How else will you get used to it?_ ”

           “Ya,” you said, trying to move your hand away, but his fingers tightened around yours. “ _You said no, you said not to,_ you said not to let anyone else touch me,” you huffed, and Yoongi pressed his lips together in thought.

           “ _I guess I just need to touch you more, then,_ ” he said casually, and you clenched your stomach as you shivered and hummed.  He didn’t move anymore, though, except to caress your knee and move his fingers along your other hand for a few moments.  “Y/N?” he said after a while, and his hand tightened on yours again.  “That guy…did he… _did it happen when you were drunk_?”  You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, and Yoongi did the same, his brow furrowed.

           “ _Yes,_ ” you said, “and when sober.  Consent,” you paused, trying to think of how to explain in Korean, “consent has to be given every time.  Even if you’re married.  _You should always ask.  He didn’t._   _Does that make sense?_ ”

           “Yeah.  Is this okay?” he said, moving his hand past your knee up your leg, and even though you took a deep breath and clenched your jaw, you nodded.  “I’d never.  You know?  I’ll always ask.”  His voice almost shook, and it made your limbs tremble.

           “Oh, god, Yoongi, _I know,_ ” you whispered. “ _I believe you_.”  And before you realized what you were doing, your hand flew up to cup his face, but his eyes flickered toward it momentarily, and you withdrew it, ducking your head a bit deeper into your pillow.  “ _Sorry,_ ” you muttered, but Yoongi’s hand left your thigh and took your free one and guided it to his hip.

           “ _You can touch me, too, if you want, you know?_ ” he said, and you closed your eyes again, unable to stand the way he was looking at you.

           “ _I’m not,_ I’m not supposed to,” you stuttered, but you didn’t move your hand.

           “ _You really like rules, don’t you_?” Yoongi said, and you could tell he was smiling as you nodded.  Your hand stayed on his hip, and he put his on yours while still holding your other one between you two.  “ _Tell me about a time you broke a rule._ When did you not obey?”

           “ _One time,_ ” you said slowly, “there was a no trespassing sign, _I wasn’t supposed to enter,_ it was a _golf course,_ and I did.”  Your eyes shot open when Yoongi started to laugh, his whole body shaking.

           “ _That’s it_?”

           “Uh, _I drank before,_ when _illegal._ I drank when I was like, nineteen.”

           “Oh, wow, _you’re terrible,_ ” he said, laughing.

           “And I speed.  _While driving, I go fast._ And I chew gum at school.  It’s not allowed, but I do it anyway,” you said, getting so excited you tugged on Yoongi’s waist slightly as you pulled yourself closer to him.  “And I lie.  One time I stole from my mom.  _I stole gum from my mom_.  And I copied someone’s homework once.  _That’s cheating._ I’ve peed in a pool and ran by a pool and dived where it said no diving.”  Your words were spewing out faster and faster now, and Yoongi’s mouth opened a little, his eyes getting wider as you spoke.  “ _I’ve lied,_ to probably everyone I know, my mom, my boss, my best friend.  I sat in the section for elderly and pregnant ladies on the subway before when I wasn’t either of those.  I went the wrong way on a road.  I don’t wear a helmet when I go biking.  I’ve downloaded movies from the internet without paying.  _I’m a thief._ And I slept with a guy who had a girlfriend, which is almost like adultery, So I’m basically a slut, and I jumped off a bridge that clearly said no jumping—”

           “Y/N,” Yoongi said, his voice stern, “Okay.  _That’s enough._

           “Yeah,” you said, practically panting.  “Yeah, that’s enough.”  You slid your arm away from him and turned over to your other side, his hands losing their grip on you as you did.

           “ _I don’t want you to break any rules,_ Y/N, _that’s not what I meant,_ ” Yoongi muttered behind you.

           “ _I know,_ ” you said, stretching your arms over your head and bringing them outside of the blanket.  You reached up for one of the spare pillows to hug it against you.  “ _I dreamed,_ the other day, when I couldn’t move, _I dreamed about it._ ”

           “ _What_?”

           “ _Jumping.  Off the bridge_ ,” you said, remembering how your toes hung dangerously over the edge.  “ _You know._ It was on my medical sheet.”  Yoongi barely muttered something.

           “ _Can I touch you_?” you heard him say, and you nodded, almost breaking as his arm came around your back to find your hands and clasp them tight as he pulled you back into his chest.  “You don’t have to tell me, you know.”

           “I know,” you said, tilting your head down when his breath tickled the back of your neck, “but _this is me.  If you really.  I mean,_ I’m a mess.”

           “ _A beautiful, broken piano,_ ” Yoongi said, pressing his forehead against your back.  You took a deep breath, and he moved with you as you took a few more.

           “ _You know the word_ reputation?” you finally, said, and Yoongi hummed as an affirmation.  “Reputation matters.  So much.  Too much, I think.  Image.  _I was so afraid._ Afraid of what people would say.  If they knew, _if they knew what he did.  I had this great job, and I was afraid._ If anyone found out, I could lose it.  And I thought my life would be over.  So I ran.  _I run._ And decided to take care of it before anyone else could.  _It was really dumb,_ ” you said lamely, and Yoongi nuzzled his face into your back.  You laughed half-heartedly, the sound almost hollow.  “ _I’m serious,_ it was really, really dumb.  I’m glad I didn’t die.  But, Yoongi, I have that fear now,” you said, turning around again to face him, his arm lingering on your waist and his face close to yours.

           “ _Why_?” he said, obviously concerned.

           “Your reputation and image matter.  And if I’ve messed them up…”

           “ _Don’t you fucking dare jump off any bridges, you hear me?_ ” Yoongi practically growled, and you bit your lip.

           “Yeah,” you nodded.

           “I’m serious.”

           “Yeah, okay,” you said, curling into him and muttering, “always telling me what to do.”

           “Yep,” he said, his hand moving around you to rest on your back.  “ _Since I know_ you love rules, _you like being told what to do._ ”

           “Ya,” you said, your fist bunching his shirt, and you ducked your head again until it was practically under his chin.

           “Is this okay?” he whispered, as his hand traced up and down your back while his other arm wiggled out from underneath him to rest above his head, his fingers barely touching the top of your head.  You hummed, letting yourself pinpoint exactly which spot each of his fingers touched, which keys he was pressing, and your cheeks burned when you realized how good it felt.

           “Yoongi,” you said, your voice trying to keep yourself awake, “ _I have questions._ ”

           “Uh, okay,” he said hesitantly, because it didn’t sound like the start of a pleasant conversation.  But you asked him about rules he had broken, and he told of the time he totally tweeted while drunk and how he turned his phone off just last month and went to get drunk by himself, which wasn’t only foolish but also dangerous.  And you lay there, talking for hours, occasionally shifting positions when a limb went numb, talking of favorites and everything you disliked and what you shared in common.

           Like surprises—both adamantly against them unless they were good, but the only way to know if a surprise was going to be good was if you knew it was going to happen, thereby making it not a surprise.  And birthdays—both of you hated them with a passion, because you had these unrealistic expectations that had come from somewhere that they should be incredibly special, but since you weren’t kids anymore each year just felt more and more disappointing; plus, they usually involved surprises or awkward gift exchanges that also came with expectations of how to act.  And social events—god, you both hated schmoozing and networking with a passion, which was surprising considering how much he had to do it, but he relied so heavily on Namjoon who also hated it but was simply better at it.  And praise—you both could admit you pretended like you didn’t like it, but it was this fake kind of humility because you didn’t like to admit you were really good at something someone else was acknowledging you were good at while you simultaneously just wanted everyone to acknowledge how hard you had worked and how well you had done, but Yoongi had more experience accepting it and at least externally took it well.  And work—how without your jobs you would be utterly lost, and you both knew you placed too much of your purpose within them, but they were also your passion, and your love of teaching and his love of music is what kept you going individually.  And others—both of you caring so much for others, more than you cared for yourselves, but both acknowledging you sometimes were clueless and confused about how to help or express how you felt; both of you taking awhile to trust others.

           And you talked about differences, too.  How he was a fighter, though never physically.  You had been in more fights with your brothers than he ever had, and he, even if not technically, had more brothers than you.  But he was a fixer, and wanted to always make things right, so unless he was feeling incredibly insecure, he would work to make sure things were right.  He initiated when he wanted to, more than you ever would.  And he ruminated maybe as much as you, but he shared his concerns more openly with others, as long as they were close to him.  You both felt immensely, your emotions often getting the best of you, but while you waited and hid them until you burst, he tried to deal with them immediately.  He loved to talk more than you, while you preferred to listen, then; not that he talked a lot, but he would make sure what was said needed to be said, while you would, surprise, surprise, fly from confrontation and avoid talking if it was at all uncomfortable.  And he certainly liked to be touched more than you did.  He wasn’t even big on skinship, especially in public, but he understood its importance and how it signified trust and ease between people, and he explained that that’s what he wanted you to know, his hand still on your back and his head in your hair.  That he’s trusted you for weeks, and isn’t worried about what anyone says, because you’re strong and he just wants you to feel comfortable.  And you tell him you are.  That you trust him.  That you haven’t felt this safe in a long time.

           “But,” you said after hours of talking and lying in bed, “ _I’m also so, so very hungry._ ”  Yoongi smiled at you, rubbing his fingers through your hair one more time before throwing both arms over his head and stretching.

           “ _God, I thought it was just me.  Let’s go make Jin cook us something._ ”

           “Nah, I’ll do it,” you said, bouncing out of bed to get dressed.

           “Hey, Y/N,” Yoongi said, his voice still low as he watched you head toward the bathroom.

           “Yeah?” you said, turning around in the doorway, one hand on the frame.

           “ _I’m glad you’re here,_ ” he said, and you smiled gently at him.

           “Me too.”

 

           Yoongi refused to let you leave his side the rest of the day.  And it only annoyed you briefly, because you had a thought that you could look after yourself and didn’t need him to babysit, and he was probably just trying to keep you occupied so you wouldn’t get on the internet again, until you told those voices in your head to kindly shut the fuck up, because he was looking after you because, yes, you would fall apart by yourself right now, and yes, he was distracting you from the internet because if you read what people were saying you would only feel worse, and all your annoyance left you, only to be replaced with a warm mixture of embarrassment and gratitude.  He only kicked you out of his studio momentarily to meet with Namjoon and J-Hope, and he literally made Jimin come and retrieve you and bring you back after they’re done, but you came back after having laughed for basically an hour with Jimin, so you weren’t annoyed at all, except maybe just a little because you want to hang out with Jimin longer, but Yoongi shooed everyone else out of his studio and waved you over to his lap.  You went to him hesitantly but balanced yourself on the edge of one of his knees.

           “We wrote this for you,” he said, putting headphones on your ears.

           “What?” you said, looking up at him in confusion.

           “Well, Namjoon, J-Hope and I.  _From your poems._ Uh, this one,” he said, clicking open a document on the screen.  You looked at the words and immediately recognized them as your own.  “ _I used it for my verse._ ”

           “ _Really?_ ” you said, too stunned to think of anything else to say.

           “Yeah, yeah,” he nodded excitedly.  “ _It didn’t rhyme the same in Korean, obviously, so I changed some things, but that’s the English translation.  I mean, it came from you._   Here, listen, listen.”  He was so excited, or nervous, because he bounced his empty knee while you listened, seeming to drum along to the beat even though he couldn’t hear it through the headphones as he followed along with the tracker in his mixing program.  You couldn’t resist leaning backwards onto him as you listened, especially when Yoongi’s voice hit your ear.  His rapping was always emotional, always passionate, and his low voice punctuating every word flawlessly practically jabbed at your heart with each syllable.  When it was over, Yoongi stirred to ask you something, but you took the mouse from him and slid the bar back, listening again.  You didn’t understand everything, but you remembered what you had written, and you understood the emotion well enough to feel your heart tightening as you listened again.

I’m afraid of having too much fun.

I’m not sure where it comes from.

Some sense of shame smothering me,

some guilt that surrounds everything I see.

So forgive me that when you came along

I wasn’t sure if I should go along.

Your plans included me, but I felt far away.

I didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t want to stay.

Every time we sat there laughing,

my thoughts turned to what was lacking.

But with each smile, I began to feel

that what I was thinking wasn’t real,

just some imaginary space I thought was empty

that you filled until it became a sea.

A sea full of creatures big and small,

each refusing to stay behind its wall.

So now we’re all swimming strong,

because even if our fears come along,

our school will stay together,

And together is where we belong.

 

           “It’s about us,” Yoongi said when you were done.  “About BTS.  But also me.  And you.  And others, too.  _I mean, you wrote this years ago you said, but it’s pertinent to this summer, and our experience as a group.  What do you think_?”

           “Oh, god,” you said, wiping your eyes, “ _I love it._ ”

           “Hey,” he whispered, hearing you crying and placing his hands on your hips.  You took off the headphones and stood up, trying to get away from everything you were feeling, but his voice came through again.  “Hey,” he said louder and firmer this time, taking one of your hands and putting his other one behind your knee, pulling you closer to him.  You almost staggered into him, but he placed your hand on his shoulder and then brought you back down onto his lap by guiding you with one hand on your back, his other one bringing your leg closer until you were straddling him and crashing into his chest.

           “Fuck, Yoongi,” you sobbed.

           “ _Is this okay?_ ” he said, waiting until you nodded before he laced his fingers together behind your back.

           “Yeah, I promise I’m fine.  _I’m happy._   _The song is amazing, thank you,_ ” you said, calmly down already, your tears easing up.

           “ _Then why are you crying_?”

           “Haven’t you ever cried because something was so good?” you asked, pushing yourself off of his chest so you could look at his face.

           “Uh,” he stuttered.

           “Like haven’t lamb skewers ever made you cry?”

           “ _No,_ ” he said, smiling.

           “Okay, _if you’re happy, or proud, or grateful, haven’t you ever cried_?” you said, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

           “Yeah, of course,” he said, bringing one of his hands to your face to wipe away a stray tear.

           “ _It’s that then._   _Sorry I cried._ ”

           “ _Don’t apologize,_ Y/N,” Yoongi said.  “ _I just thought you hated it._ ”

           “ _I could never, never hate anything you make,_ ” you said, smiling fully.

           “Really?” he asked, his voice almost shy.  You nodded enthusiastically and smiled widely.  “ _You do belong,_ you know?” Yoongi said softly.  “ _With us._ You should stay.”  He had said it.  How had that bastard Jackson predicted this?

           “I,” you said, shifting away from him, the only thing keeping you from falling off of him being his hands on your back.  “I can’t.  I leave in four days.”

           “ _I know,_ ” Yoongi said, his face calm, but he swallowed before giving you a weary smile, and you had to look away before wiggling off of him completely.  You stood there too long in awkward silence before you cleared your throat.

           “ _I’m going to tell Namjoon and J-Hope I liked the song, okay_?”

           “Of course,” Yoongi said, pulling his chair up to his desk and putting his headphones on.  “ _Come back if you want.  Just knock._ ”

           “Okay, Mingi, _I will,_ ” you said, emphasizing his name and smiling as you walked away.  You couldn’t see him smile and nod, but you know he did.

 

           You somehow convinced everyone to show up again for dinner, and part of you wondered if they would have spent more evenings at home if you had asked sooner, while another part of you just felt like they were spending as much time as you as possible before you left, and both of those thoughts made you sad, but you pushed them away, because there was no way of knowing if they would have come home earlier in the summer before they knew you well, and there was nothing wrong with them wanting to spend more time with you now, so instead of worrying about something you couldn’t control, you just worried about chopping the onions and carrots and making sure Jin was pleased with your work.  Which, of course, he was.  And you fought Jimin off who was clingy more than anything, but you appeased him by sneaking him bites when Jin wasn’t looking.  And you sat on Yoongi’s left without him asking and threw him a smile, hoping everything was fine from earlier, and he seemed like his usual self, laughing and talking with the boys.  Before dinner was over, his hand found your knee again, and you breathed a sigh of relief, taking it as a sign that everything was okay, and you just let him keep it there for a few minutes before you angled your body closer to him and moved your foot until it was on the other side of his, your leg crossing over his.  You purposefully did it while he was saying something to J-Hope, and his voice slightly faltered while you listened intently to whatever Jimin was saying sitting across from you, nodding along to everything he said.  Yoongi’s fingers resumed brushing back and forth over your knee and you put your chopsticks down, rotating your body just a little further until you were almost perpendicular to him, and you saw his eyes glance at you briefly.  You couldn’t hide the grin on your face as you reached your hand under the table, moved his away from your knee, and then swung your leg across his knees.  You tried to stifle your laugh by placing your elbow on the table and putting your face into it, keeping your eyes on Jimin, when Tae, sitting on the other side of Yoongi, muttered something and looked down.

           “Y/N,” he said, leaning forward to look across Yoongi at you.  “Why is your foot here?”

           “Hmm?” you said, feigning innocence until you looked over at him, ignoring the way Yoongi was staring at you.  “Oh, that is my foot, Tae,” you said with a nod, not answering his question but turning back to smile at Jimin.

           “Yeah, but,” Tae said, looking at Namjoon on his right, wondering if his English had been wrong, “why is it here?”  Namjoon leaned over to see, and soon everyone, even Jimin, Jungkook, and J-Hope on the other side of the table, was trying to see where your foot was.  Yoongi cleared his throat before anyone fell over at the sight and pushed your leg off of his.

           “I was thinking,” you said, straightening up and crossing your legs under the table, “you all need practice.”

           “ _What?_ Practice?” J-Hope said, his eyebrows raised.  “Practice for what?”

           “ _This,_ ” you said, raising your hand and placing it on the back of Yoongi’s neck, giving his skin a slight squeeze in-between your fingers.  He visibly straightened before rolling his shoulders, and you removed your fingers.

           “ _Yoongi hates that_ ,” Jungkook said, pointing a chopstick at you.

           “I don’t mean Yoongi,” you said, looking around the table.  “I mean when one of you gets a girlfriend, what are you going to do if she gets all touchy in front of all of you?”  You nodded at Namjoon, waiting for him to translate.

           “ _Tell her to stop,_ ” Jungkook said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

           “Really?  Yikes, uh, _don’t do that,_ ” you muttered.  “ _Would you make Mina stop_ if she held your hand at dinner or something, J-Hope?”

           “Uh,” J-Hope stuttered, looking around the table.  He was rarely at a loss for words, so for a second you felt bad for embarrassing him.  “No, no, _but I don’t think she would around other people._ ”

           “ _Really_?” you said, your mouth slightly open as you looked around the table again.  “I mean, not even just around each other?  You’re all comfortable with touching and kissing each other in front of each other, but you wouldn’t you want your girlfriends to be comfortable doing that, too?”  You eyed Namjoon, pleading for help as he translated.

           “No, _I would,_ ” Tae said confidently, “I would want her _to be comfortable,_ ” he clarified, and Jimin mumbled in agreement, seeming to sigh.

           “ _I’d cuddle the heck out of my girlfriend in front of you all and not even think twice,_ ” Jin said, leaning back in his chair.  When Namjoon finished laughing he translated for you, and you had to laugh, too.

           “ _I believe that,_ ” you said, giving Jin a smile, and his eyes flickered for a moment before he winked at you.  Jungkook gagged slightly and you glared across at him.

           “ _You,_ ” you said, throwing a finger at him, “ _you will try,_ you will be the worst, I just know it, you’ll touch her the second you think someone’s not looking and then all feign innocence when she asks you what you’re doing and if Tae or Jimin catches you you’ll deny it with a stupid little smirk on your face.  _You know I’m right,_ ” you huffed, and Namjoon translated again from behind his hand as he tried to hide a smile.  “ _You all need to be ready,_ ” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “and _practice makes better._ ”

           “ _She does have a point,_ ” Namjoon said, tapping his finger on his lips.  Everyone looked at him, some more surprised than others, and Yoongi groaned.

           “ _Don’t encourage this,_ ” he said, and Tae laughed, smacking his hand on Yoongi’s arm.  “I thought you hated, _I thought you hated, what’s it called_?” Yoongi asked, looking at Namjoon.

           “Ah, PDA?” he offered, and Yoongi nodded.

           “ _I never said that.  Touching,_ ” you said, pausing.  You uncrossed your arms and stuck your hands under your legs on the chair, rocking back and forth a few times, “ _some people like touching more than other people do._   _Some people like touching more than,_ more than other things.  Make sense?” you asked, and the boys nodded, following along.  “ _Touching is not the most important thing for me._   For some people it is.  Like, for Tae,” you said, bringing your hand up to point at him, your arm reaching across Yoongi’s chest slightly, “I bet touch is the most important.  Jungkook,” you said, turning to him, and he was somehow still eating, so his chopsticks hovered in the air when you looked at him, “ _remember what I told you_?”  His eyes darted around the table and his mouth hung open slightly.  “About love languages?”

           “Oh, yeah,” he said, nodding and swallowing.  Some of the boys cocked their heads at you, so with Namjoon’s help you explained again how people accept and give love different.

           “Oh, what’s mine, what’s mine?” Jimin said.

           “Well, _I don’t know._ You’d have to take the test.  But,” you said when his face looked crestfallen.  “ _I think.  I could guess._ ”  He nodded enthusiastically, so once again with Namjoon’s help you went around the table and shared your thoughts.  “Jimin, you’re 100% words of affirmation.  You like to be praised.”  He blushed slightly but nodded.  “And also physical touch.  And you’re the most affectionate person because you’re really good at reading what people need. Like, you give all of the types of love in return.”  Jimin blushed again, but J-Hope was nodding enthusiastically beside him, and he reached up to rub circles on Jimin’s back.  “Tae is 100% physical touch, and I think quality time, too,” you said, and Tae smiled, nodding at your assessment.  “He is good at giving touches, for sure, and gifts.  He’s good at giving gifts, isn’t he?” you said, and everyone nodded, especially Jimin and Namjoon.  “Jungkook is words of affirmation, even if he’d deny it,” you said, and he rolled his eyes, “and quality time.  And despite how much he annoys, I mean, teases people, he’s good at giving encouragement and praise.  Probably because he has to do it to Jimin so often,” you said, laughing as Jungkook rolled his eyes again and Jimin protested slightly.  “Let’s see, Namjoon loves getting gifts that have meaning, like not material things, but notes or special things he’s requested randomly at one point that someone remembers and surprises him with.”  Namjoon laughed at this, trying to hide his face again, but he nodded.  “And probably words of affirmation.  I think he needs praise and encouragement more than he admits,” you said softly.  Several of the boys nodded, and Jin clapped.

           “ _Three cheers for Namjoon!_ ”  Jin said, and Tae immediately started to do so, but Namjoon smacked his arm, so he stopped, pouting a little.

           “And Namjoon is really giving quality time, probably because he’s had to spend so much with all of you—”

           “Hey!” J-Hope said, but you just laughed.

           “Kidding.  And he’s good at giving encouragement, probably because he’s had to put up with all—”

           “Hey!” Jungkook said, glaring at you, but you just laughed again.

           “Um, J-Hope,” you said, looking at him across the table, and he crossed his arms and leaned back, looking too serious, “I think, maybe, you’re quality time and physical touch, even if you’d deny it.  And you’re best at giving encouragement.”  He closed his eyes and nodded, a smile on his face.

           “Jin is 100% acts of service.  If you do something for him or spend time with him, he’ll like you.   And for giving I think he’s the same.  He does things for people he cares about, and those things take time.  Jin also needs someone to just sit with him sometimes.  Since he cooks for you, you know he loves you,” you said, and Jin scoffed.

           “You have no idea.  _I slave away so much for all of you,_ ” he said, throwing his finger wildly around the table.  Everyone rolled their eyes at him.

           “And Yoongi?” Namjoon said when you had finished everyone else.

           “Ah, Yoongi,” you said, looking at him finally, and you were surprised to see he looked slightly nervous.  “Yoongi is quality time.  He needs someone to just be with him.  To know he’s not alone.  And words of affirmation.  He needs validation that he’s doing a good job.  Which he is,” you added, reaching down and taking his hand.  He shifted slightly, his eyes darting down to your hand before returning to your face.  You ignored J-Hope’s smile out of the corner of your eye.  “And he’s the best at giving words of affirmation.  No, acts of service.  He can see what someone needs and provide that easily.”  You smiled at him and ran your thumb over his hand, hoping he wasn’t upset.

           “What are you, Y/N?” Tae said, leaning forward again so he could see you past Yoongi.

           “Ah, I’m 100% words of affirmation.  I need people to tell me I’m good or whatever because I don’t believe it myself.  And acts of service.  Like if someone washes the dishes for me or gives me a massage, I’ll marry him,” you said, slightly jokingly but also halfway serious.  Some of the boys laughed, but Yoongi’s face was calm as he watched and listened.  “And I think I’m best at giving quality time, because that’s also important to me.  Listening and just being with someone.  Also words of affirmation.  I bet I could give J-Hope and Jimin a run for their money when it comes to encouragement,” you said, and the two laughed when Namjoon explained the meaning of the phrase.  “So, anyway,” you said, dropping Yoongi’s hand for a moment to explain to the boys, “ _touch isn’t the most important for everyone.  But it is for every relationship.  Touch is trust._ So if someone doesn’t let you touch them, they probably don’t trust you.  Or they’re scared for other reasons.”  You paused, and the boys were respectfully quiet and patient as you collected your thoughts.  “I mean, how awkward has it been this summer?  Honestly?  I know you specifically talked about me a lot.”  Namjoon paused before translating, and a few of the boys shifted in their seats or looked away.

           “It wasn’t awkward until these two,” Jin said, pointing at Yoongi and Tae.

           “Hey!” Tae said, frowning.

           “ _Was that good practice?  Was it hard?  Could you do it again_ about someone else?  Potential girlfriends?” you said, looking at them all.

           “ _I mean,_ ” Namjoon started, “it wasn’t always comfortable.  And no one likes to have uncomfortable discussions, but we’re used to it by now.  We know how to communicate with each other.  Sometimes we don’t even need to use words, you know?”  You nodded, understanding.  “So, you’re right, it will come up again.  And we’ll discuss it as needed on a case-by-case basis.”  You couldn’t help but laugh slightly.

           “So business-like,” you muttered, and the table went quiet for a few moments, everyone taking a sip of their drinks or leaning back in their chairs.  “Anyway,” you finally said, stretching slightly with a small groan before you put your hand on Yoongi’s thigh, rubbing it back and forth a few times, “ _you all need practice._ ”  Only Tae could really see what you were doing—Jin was already cleaning up the table—and he smirked and looked intently at Jungkook sitting across from him, which unnerved the youngest a bit to the point where he looked around hesitantly, wondering what Tae was looking at him for.  Yoongi rolled his head back and forth before scooting his chair back slightly, and you looked at him, your hand sliding off of his leg, wondering if you had upset him.  And your mouth definitely dropped open when he patted his lap, his voice low.

           “ _Come here._ ”

           “Uh,” you said, standing up suddenly, trying to ignore all of the eyes staring at you, “I’m going to help Jin with the dishes,” you stuttered, trying to turn away, but Yoongi rolled his eyes once and you practically yelped—no, you definitely, embarrassingly, squeaked louder than you would have liked—when he tugged on your hand and pulled your waist toward him, causing you to fall into his lap, your back pressed against his chest.  You tried to smile at J-Hope who was sitting directly across from you, his eyes a little wide in shock.  “Uh,” you breathed again as Yoongi’s hands came around to grip the side of your thighs, his fingers pressed in-between both of your legs.

           “Ya!  _Not the lap again,_ ” Jungkook yelled dramatically, shielding his eyes.  You tried to shift, uncomfortable at the way Jimin was laughing and the way Namjoon was trying to hide his face again.

           “ _Hey, practice makes better_ ,” you heard Yoongi smirk, and you practically doubled over in embarrassment, hanging your head.

           “Oh, _that’s cold, Yoongi,_ ” J-Hope said, laughing, “ _using her own words against her!_ ”  You kept your head down as the boys started to get up, their chairs scraping across the floor and dishes clattering, their mingling voices drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

           “Hey,” Yoongi whispered, and his breath on your neck caused you to shiver, “ _is this okay?  Sorry, I got frustrated._ ”

           “Yeah, _what_?” you said, watching his fingers curl and spread out repeatedly on the side of your legs.

           “ _What you said,_ about practicing, _I’m not someone to use.  You don’t get to experiment with me just so the other guys can practice how to act around some couple or some shit._ ”

           “Oh, Yoongi,” you said, turning enough so you could see his face, your stomach flipping at his words, “ _that’s not what I meant._ I didn’t mean it like that at all, _I’m sorry._ I just, I leave—”

           “In four days, yeah, _got it,_ ” he said, his voice low, his hands still.

           “Yeah, and.  I just.  _I just want to help._   I don’t know why I did that.  Or said that.  I think.  _I think.  I don’t know,_ ” you laughed suddenly, “ _I’m so confused._ ”

           “Yeah, _me too,_ ” Yoongi sighed, looking around the room.  You looked closely at him and your eyes drifted past his shoulders and past his face and you stiffened.  He felt it, and his face came back to yours.  “ _What_?”

           “ _They’re watching us,_ ” you leaned in toward him and whispered, and he turned his head slightly.  The other six of the boys were in the kitchen, leaning on the island, some with their head in their hands propped up on their elbows, watching you.  Tae even waved when he met your eyes.  Yoongi just rolled his eyes but grinned.

           “ _I guess you are kind of right,_ ” he said, looking back at you, one hand on your hip, his other hand coming around to turn your knees so you face him better.

           “ _About what_?” you said, and for some unknown reason, your subconscious must have taken over for a moment, because you brought your hands up and laced them together behind Yoongi’s neck.  He leaned back into your palms and smirked slightly.

           “ _They definitely need practice.  They’re embarrassing themselves._ ”

           “Uh huh,” you said slowly.  “Because I’m not embarrassed at all.”  Yoongi’s laugh was almost a bark.

           “See, I’m right, too,” he said, his voice low.

           “About what?”

           “ _What I said this morning._ ”

           “Uh,” you stuttered, licking your lips and biting the inside of your mouth as his eyes swept over your face.  “ _What did you say_?”

           “ _I need to touch you more,_ ” he whispered, his fingers creeping down your leg.

           “Even though I—” you started, and his fingers dug into your hip.

           “ _I swear, if you say when you’re leaving one more time,_ ” he hissed, and you stilled, biting your lip again and trying not to look at all of the faces behind him.

           “ _I’m sorry,_ ” you muttered.

           “It’s just,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling momentarily, “ _I’m overwhelmed by how much I have to fit into four days.  I don’t have enough time or hands for it._ ”

           “God, Yoongi,” you said, sucking in your breath, your face so red your whole body went rigid, “don’t fucking say things like that.”  He smirked at you, but his face and his grip softened.

           “So, if I go do dishes, _will you really marry me_?”

           “God,” you gasped again, pushing yourself off of him and standing up, giving the other boys a glare.  They scurried like cockroaches, bumping into each other and pretending to be busy cleaning up.  “I regret that and every other life decision,” you huffed, but Yoongi only smiled at you and watched as you retreated to the couch until he got up to help everyone clean up.  Except Namjoon soon abandoned his post, coming to sit by you and check in on you, distracting you by talking about books, and Tae came next and started to give you a neck massage like he had done several times before, but Yoongi yelled at him from the kitchen, and he ran away, making you laugh.  And the night ended before you would have liked, your head resting on Yoongi’s shoulder as he messed around on his phone, your legs curled up on the couch, Jungkook sitting on the floor beneath you so you could occasionally poke his head or pull at his hair.

           “Yoongi,” you said as you watched J-Hope and Jin do an absurd imitation of each other, everyone laughing at their antics.  He hummed in response, his fingers still moving over his phone.  “ _I’m glad I’m here._ Even if it’s just for—”

           “Y/N,” Yoongi said, moving away so quickly you had to catch yourself as you started to fall behind him.  Your breath hitched when you saw how dark his eyes were, and you tried to ignore how quiet the room had gotten.  “ _I swear,_ ” he breathed.  “ _Stop.  Stop saying that like you’re leaving forever._ ”

           “Well, I,” you stuttered, sitting up straight, unable to avoid all of the boys looking at you, especially Jungkook, who had turned and put his arm on the couch, his hand close to your knee.

           “ _Stop saying it like it’s some final countdown.  So in four days you go home.  But it’s not like we’ll never see you again._ ”

           “But, I,” you stuttered again, your brain crashing into the walls of your skull as you tried to decipher what he was saying.

           “Just listen to me,” Yoongi said, and his voice was almost a whine.  “ _Don’t you trust me?  Don’t you trust us?_ ”  You fumbled again as your mouth opened and closed several times before you nodded dumbly.  “Good.  _Then act like it_.”  And Yoongi sighed, and you knew he was slightly annoyed and slightly frustrated, and you were extremely annoyed and extremely frustrated with yourself for ruining the mood as you always did by overthinking instead of just letting what happens happen, and you scooted away as he leaned back into the couch.  Jungkook gave you a small smile over his shoulder, but you only weakly returned it, and you were unable to meet Namjoon’s reassuring smile and Jimin’s comforting one, and you tried to ignore the way Jin’s eyes narrowed and the way J-Hope and Tae were looking around uneasily. 

           “ _Okay everyone, I’m going to touch Y/N again, so nobody piss themselves,_ ” Yoongi sighed before anyone could readjust or continue their conversations.  “ _If that’s okay._ ”  You looked at him, your shoulders heavy, and you couldn’t decide what you wanted.  You knew what you really wanted, but you wanted an impossibility, so in the moment you didn’t know what to say.  And Yoongi didn’t press or even look upset, and no one teased or pointed out that he wasn’t doing what he said he was going to do when he went back to his phone, and everyone went back to their conversations.  But the air had changed, and you couldn’t stand it, you couldn’t stand the obvious tension and the feeling that it was all your fault.  And you groaned loudly, throwing your head back on the couch, which of course made everyone turn to you, and their eyes got wide or smiles appeared on your face when you let out a drawn-out “Fuck!” and promptly laid down, your head landing on its side on Yoongi’s leg.

           “ _Yes, I trust you,_ ” you sighed.  “ _I trust all of you!_ ” you said louder.  “You can all touch me if you want,” you said, throwing your hands into the air.  You didn’t, of course, really mean it, and most of them understood what you meant, but you laughed when Tae started to get off of the floor to scramble toward you.

           “ _Yeah, I don’t think so, she’s all mine,_ ” Yoongi growled, even though it sounded like he was smiling, too, and Tae stilled, retreating to his spot, and you had to close your eyes, because you couldn’t stand to look at the dumb, mocking look on Jungkook’s face, and you hoped the pressure of your eyes pressed shut together tightly would stop your face from burning so much.  It didn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Yoongi's probably totally cried over lamb skewers.  
> 2\. I love love languages, okay?
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have several V Live broadcasts ft. none other than you. Yoongi tells you what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.
> 
> This chapter, no matter how many times the preview showed it correctly, kept getting cut off? Thanks ivorynoctua for letting me know. I think I fixed the problem.

**Day 51**

            It had been a long time since you hadn’t woken up naturally or been woken up by your alarm, so you were alarmed, your senses heightened and your heart racing quickly when there were loud knocks on your door.  You scurried into a sitting position, grasping your blankets close to your chest as you said,  
            “Come in!”  The sight of Jimin, Jungkook, and Tae bursting through your door was not at all what you expected, and you wondered what in the hell was going on as they rushed into your room, Tae jumping onto your bed, Jungkook grabbing your chair, and Jimin flopping down beside your bed, handing you a bouquet of red and yellow flowers.  They were all grinning stupidly at you, and you looked at all of them, a confused look on your face.  “ _Hi.  Good morning.  What’s up_?”

            “Not much,” Tae said, shoving a bag toward you.  “Open.”

            “Okay,” you said slowly, doing so.  Your face brightened when you pulled out its contents—you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but with these three and the way they were looking at you, you honestly wondered if the bag wasn’t going to contain a snake or some buzzer toy or some nonsense.  It was, in fact, just a harmless bomber jacket, a bright red, slightly padded bomber jacket, and you immediately threw it on.  “Oh!  _I love it!  Thanks!_ ”  Tae nodded, looking proud, and Jimin rustled the paper on the bouquet.  “ _And these are gorgeous,_ ” you said, patting his head until he smiled.  “ _What did you get me?_ ” you said to Jungkook, but he just spun in his chair.

            “ _I mean, I made a music video for you and sang you a song, so I feel like you owe me at this point._ ”

            “Sure, whatever,” you said, sticking your hands in the jacket’s pockets.  “What’s all this for, though?  _Why_?”

            “ _We just really like you, Y/N_ ,” Jimin said, smiling up at you.

            “Uh huh,” you said slowly.  “Sounds suspicious.”

            “ _Hey, you know what would look good with this_?” Tae said, hopping off your bed and running to open your tiny closet.  He started to rifle through it, and you opened your mouth to protest but then shut it, knowing it was pointless.  “Ah ha,” he finally said, bringing out your aqua dress.  You froze momentarily, remembering the last time you had worn it.  But no one noticed, and Tae brought it to the bed, holding it up next to the jacket.  “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, pleased with his choice.

            “Yeah, okay,” you said, taking the dress.  “What’s the occasion?”  The boys had all hopped to their feet and were already heading out.

            “ _Breakfast,_ ” Jimin said sweetly before closing the door.  You sat on your bed for a moment, looking down at the dress.  It was just a piece of clothing.  You didn’t want to get rid of it just because you had freaked out one time when Yoongi touched you.  It was just a dress.

 

            You couldn’t really believe the ease with which the boys were walking around in public this morning.  Sure, they’re bundled up as if it December instead of July, and they had masks on their faces and were keeping their heads down, but their steps were light and quick as if the three of them were trying to lose the manager and security behind them, and you struggled to keep up with their long legs as they entered the restaurant for breakfast.  More like brunch, really, you realized, considering how late it already was.  But despite how uneasy you felt when people look at the seven of you entering, the boys seemed calm, or at least not surprised, and you tried to be calm, too, then, sticking your hands in your new jacket’s pockets until you were seated in a small private room where you could relax a little more.  You fell into conversation easily with the three.  Their lightheartedness really did wonders for your stress, and you always felt a kid wanting to get into mischief with them while simultaneously wanting to tease them all mercilessly like a sibling would while wanting to protect them like a mother would all at the same time, and you practiced letting what happens happen while you all ate.

            “So, so,” Jungkook said seriously, clearing his throat when you were all done.  “I was kidding earlier.  _I did get you something._ ”

            “Oh?” you said, honestly surprised.  “ _You didn’t have to._ ”

            “No, I know, _but I did,_ ” he said, and proudly drew out an envelope from his pocket.

            “Cool,” you said, drawing the word out as you held out two hands for him to place it in, and you bowed ceremonially when he let go.  “Do you, uh, _want me to open it_ _here?_ ” you asked, and all the boys nodded.  You began to open it, then, while muttering, “I mean, what if it’s like an awkward love letter or something.”  It wasn’t, much to your relief.  But it still made you pause, your hand still on its contents.  “ _What_?” you started.

            “ _It’s a backstage pass,_ ” Tae said excitedly, leaning toward you to point at it.  That was what it was.  It was a backstage pass.  It had your full name on it and everything.  You were, frankly, a little stunned and couldn’t find any words.

            “We’ll be in the states in two months,” Jimin said slowly, tripping over a few syllables.  “And you can come to all our concerts for free.”  You laughed then, your brain snapping back to reality.

            “I can’t be a groupie or anything,” you said, but the boys didn’t know the word.  “ _I mean, I have work._ ”

            “We know,” Jungkook said, leaning back in his chair, his hands folded in his lap.  “But _if you can come,_ bring that.”

            “Yeah,” you said lamely, looking down at the pass again.

            “We want you to know,” Tae said slowly, “ _after yesterday, we want you to know we want you around._ We know it will be hard, but you are our friend.  We like you a lot.”  You smiled up at him then, reaching out your hand to take his, and then Jimin’s, and then Jungkook’s hands until your hands looked like a huddle before a sporting match.

            “ _Thank you, you guys._   _I hope to make it to a show._ ”

            “You have to,” Jimin said seriously, “Tae will cry if you don’t.”

            “I will,” he said, equally serious, a frown on his face.

            “Geez, no pressure then,” you mumbled, but you smiled.  And you tried to ignore the stares when you left and listened to the boys sing in the car and followed them to the dance studio where J-Hope was already practicing.  You positioned yourself against one of the walls and swished your feet back and forth while they warmed up.

            “Y/N!” J-Hope yelled, running over to you.  “ _Can you be in charge of music_?  Music cue?”

            “Uh, sure,” you said, taking his phone from him and walking with him to the stereo.  He showed you how to hook it up and opened up a playlist.

            “When we’re ready.  Push play.”

            “Okay,” you said, confident you could handle such an easy task.  You watched as Jimin propped his phone up on the floor and backed away from it, and you suddenly realized what they were doing, so you instinctively clasped a hand over your mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible.  J-Hope was rattling off some information and the other three were hopping and prancing around him, occasionally squatting down by the phone to get a closer look.

            “Okay, music go,” J-Hope suddenly said, and you shook yourself so you could push play.  An instrumental track with heavy bass came on, and all four of the boys started to freestyle.  You put your hand on your mouth again, unable to believe you were watching Hobi on the Street live.  And not just on V Live, but live live, in the room across the room from him live.  You simply sat and watched for several minutes as the boys messed around, getting sweatier by the minute, until you stirred and whipped out your phone.  You opened up the camera and zoomed in slightly on J-Hope and snapped a few pictures of him and then the rest of the boys.

            “Look at your man,” you texted Mina, attaching the best picture of J-Hope.

            “He’s not my man,” she sent back.  But then she sent a smiley face emoji, and you laughed.  You laughed loud enough for the boys to notice, and you clapped your hand over your mouth, saying,

            “ _Sorry!_ ” and you clapped your other hand on your mouth because you realized anyone watching V Live probably heard you, and you became absolutely still, mortified.  J-Hope only laughed, though, and was saying something to you while waving you over.  You shook your head adamantly, though, and it was only when Jimin came over to you and practically dragged you back with him that you actually moved.  He plopped down in front of his phone and leaned in close to whisper,

            “ _B is here.  Everyone, say hello.  B, say hello._ ”

            “ _Hello,_ ” you said, but you weren’t on screen, so Jimin reached up and pulled on your hand.  You tilted your body forward a bit and took a few steps closer to him until your torso and head were in the shoot, and you waved before backing away again.  “ _Goodbye._ ”

            “Oh, _let’s show them our dance!_ ” Tae shouted, and Jimin jumped up, equally excited.

            “Ah,” you said, shaking your head at both of them, at all of them, because Jungkook and J-Hope seemed keen on the idea, too.

            “Yeah, J-Hope, _you don’t mind, right_?” Jimin said, and the older boy shook his head.

            “ _I’ll find the song,_ ” he said, hurrying to his phone to pause the music.

            “Ah,” you said again as Tae came toward you.   You looked at Jungkook with what you hoped he knew was panic in your eyes.  “The video?  Won’t this spoil it?”  But he shook his head and came to sit by the camera, ready to be the videographer.  You ceased your complaining, then, even though you were still not comfortable at all with dancing in front of who knows how many people—it was probably thousands; there were probably thousands of people about to watch you trip over your feet, and your heart flipped and your stomach beat, no, wait, oh no.

            “ _I am not a dancer,_ ” you burst out when you were in position, bowing slightly to the camera.  Jimin laughed one of his laughs where his body doubled over and stood to the side while Tae took your hand.  But before he got close Tae actually said,

            “ _Who do you want to dance with_?” and if you didn’t know he cared about you before, you knew now, because he could probably feel you trembling, and he just wanted to make sure you were okay.  But you still felt a little bad as you said,

            “Jimin.”  Tae’s face fell a little, and then a lot, but he was just being dramatic, and he passed your hand to Jimin in a dramatic way, too, before sliding over to Jungkook.

            “Okay, ready?” Jimin said when he was near you, and you opened your mouth.

            “Uh, _no._ ”

            “ _Great!_ Music, start!”  They were all a bunch of punks.  Sweet, loveable punks, you thought as Jimin whisked you away.  You were glad you hadn’t forgotten the choreography, and you were surprised how easily it came back to you, but Jimin made it seem easy and natural, and his body moved and flowed like no one else’s.  By the time the song was over you had forgotten you were being recorded and being watched and doing all of this live, and you stood there catching your breath as Jimin smiled at you before you shook your jacket and your head.

            “ _Thank you,_ ” you said to Jimin, smiling before turning around to see Jungkook and Tae clapping for you.  With another waved you rushed back to J-Hope, sinking into the chair and picking up your phone to see three text messages.

            “Y/N! You dance so well!” Mina had sent.  And one of your insane friends from back home was apparently still awake and had sent a ridiculous text.

            “OMG YOU WERE ON HOBI ON THE STREET IN THE STUDIO YOU JUST DANCED WITH JIMIN HOW DID YOU DO I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COULD DANCE.”

            “Ya, go to sleep,” you sent to your friend, unable to stop grinning. 

            “So you are okay with doing a V Live,” Namjoon had sent.  Silently groaning, you got up and quietly left the room, hoping the other boys wouldn’t mind too much.  You shuffled down the halls until you knocked on Namjoon’s door.  You heard him grunt or say something, so you opened the door and went in.

            “What was that about?” he said, pointing at his screen where the boys were still dancing.

            “Uh, I’m sorry, it’s not my fault?  How bad was it?”

            “Oh, it wasn’t bad at all.  You were great.  I can’t wait to see Jungkook’s video.”

            “Oh,” you said, “no, sorry, I didn’t mean the dance.  I don’t want to know how bad that was.  I meant the comments.  How mad is everyone?” You slid down along the wall, sticking your legs out straight in front of you and messing with the end of your dress and playing with the puffing in your jacket absentmindedly.

            “Oh,” Namjoon said, turning his chair back to his desk and scrolling around some.  “What you would expect, I guess.”

            “Cool,” you said lamely, taking out your phone.

            “ _I really wanted to do one today,_ ” Namjoon mumbled, watching the boys finish their broadcast.

            “Then do one,” you said, and he hummed.  “What did you want to talk about?  On your V Live?”

            “Beginnings and endings,” he said, and you had to look at him, smiling at how serious he looked.  “I’m constantly thinking about when all of this will be over.  Some days it feels like I’m walking through a dream.  A good dream, but one day it will be over.  And that may be sooner than expected.  Certainly sooner than I’d like.”

            “That’s sad,” you said bluntly.  “You think fans want to hear about that?  The inevitable doom of BTS?”

            “No,” he sighed, leaning his head back on his chair and stretching his legs out.

            “I think you’re wrong.”  You said it softly, not wanting to upset him, and he looked at you, waiting for you to clarify.  “Everyone has beginning and endings every day.  That’s what a day is.  It starts, it ends.  There’s no tomorrow.  And beginnings and endings are scary.  People are either afraid of one or both, if they’re honest with themselves.  And you’re smart, Namjoon, plus wise, and mature, and genuine.  So I think fans would love to hear your thoughts.  I mean, I would, and I’m a fan.  Besides, you know you’d end it on a positive note, so go for it.”  You sighed and pressed your head back up against the wall, trying to send a reassuring smile to him.  He gave you a small nod and turned back around, and you got out your phone, content on the floor to mess around on the internet and do some reading.  You only looked up briefly when he started talking, and you saw his reflected image on the screen, but you were on the ground, so you assumed out of site, and you went back to your phone.  Namjoon probably talked for ten minutes before you registered what he was saying as the tone of his voice changed.

            “Oh?  _Who’s on the floor_?  Oh,” he said, reading one of the comments, and he turned around to look at you, “ _that’s B.  Can you see_?”  He leaned closer to the computer screen before leaning back.  “ _B, say hi._ ”

            “ _Hi,_ ” you said, waving your arm in the air.

            “ _Come here,_ ” he waved, and you hoped you weren’t glaring as you hobbled over on your knees to his desk, sticking your chin on it and looking up at the screen.

            “ _Weird,_ ” you said, seeing yourself and trying not to look at the number of viewers or any comments.

            “ _Which is harder for you, beginnings or endings_?” Namjoon said, scooting his chair over a little to give you room.  You sat back on your legs, still slightly visible over the desk but more comfortable this way.

            “Hmm,” you said, and looked at Namjoon.  “English?”  When he nodded you looked anywhere by the screen to answer.  “ _Endings are harder.  I get sad._ If it’s a good thing, or something you enjoy, you’ll always feel sad.  Even though being sad isn’t bad.  _Sad isn’t bad._ At the same time, some things I’m excited about ending, like when summer is over so the weather can change.  But beginnings seem to just happen to me while I feel like I have more control over endings.  A friendship may start unexpectedly, you know, but you can easily end it by saying the wrong thing.  Those endings are the worst.  No, the worst is when something ends that you don’t want to after you’ve done everything possible to try to not let it end.  Yeah, _I don’t like endings._ ”

            “But, without endings,” Namjoon said.

            “You’d have no beginnings,” you finished, smiling.  “ _Yeah,_ the whole idea of when one door closes another one opens.  _It’s a nice thought._ ”  Namjoon laughed and indicated to you with his palm, about to say something when somebody knocked—ran into—the door, causing you both to jump and turn around.  Jimin burst through the door and positioned himself behind Namjoon, leaning down onto his chair.

            “ _Hyung!  You started a broadcast right after we finished._ ”

            “ _I planned to do one today already,_ ” Namjoon said, smiling.

            “ _Didn’t B dance well_?”

            “ _She did,_ ” Namjoon said, “ _and her Korean’s gotten really good, too, right_?”

            “Ugh, _stop, I’m right here,_ ” you groaned from the ground, retreating by sliding yourself away with your hands.  It seemed like there was no escaping the camera unless you left the room, so you headed for the door.

            “ _Your dress is going to get dirty,_ ” Jimin said softly, watching you.

            “Ya,” you said, jumping up and wiping behind you.  “ _Goodbye, everyone,_ ” you waved before fleeing, really hoping Jimin wasn’t laughing because your butt was dirty.

 

            You definitely didn’t spend the rest of the afternoon looking at Twitter or YouTube or the V Live comments.  Because that wouldn’t be healthy and would only make you upset.  No, you spent hours with Mina and Hae and Mi-Hi, inviting Mina over for dinner, but she hesitated too much, so you promised to make sure J-Hope invited her, but she was still too hesitant, so you finally got her to promise to come over for dinner at least once before you leave.  And you tried not to feel too hopeful when you texted Jin about making dinner again, knowing he was busy and probably tired, but he surprised you by telling you he already had everything and was waiting for you to get home, so you hurried back to the dorm.  He was already in the kitchen washing vegetables and seemingly talking to himself, but when you walked in you were instantly annoyed he didn’t tell you that you were about to be filmed.  Because on the island was another stupid phone propped up with the V Live app opened.

            “ _Really_?” you said, though you don’t sound as exasperated as you feel.  “ _Three in one day_?  Is ARMY dead yet?”  You were even brave enough to lean into the phone and pretend to poke the camera lens.  “ _Are you alive_?”  Perhaps it was because you had already been in two broadcasts today, or maybe it was because you were tired, but you switched into a not-caring-what-other-people-think mood as you washed your hands and made yourself at home in the kitchen.  Besides, of everything you’d been filmed doing today, you definitely felt the most comfortable cooking.  You and Jin really did work well together, and you only stiffened for one moment when you were stirring a pan and he put his hands on your shoulder, trying to turn you.

            “ _Don’t turn your back to the camera._ ”

            “ _Move it,_ then,” you said, “otherwise this will burn.  Food comes first.  _Sorry everyone._ ”  You didn’t want to know how many people were freaking out that Jin touched you.  You didn’t want to know what they were saying.  You just wanted to cook, and eat with the boys, and end another day happily.  It was only when you were draining the noodles that you heard Jin signing off, telling everyone that no, he wasn’t going to feed them, but they should go eat dinner, too, that you realized how much food you had made.  It wasn’t enough for eight people, and you watched Jin as he put something away into the fridge, wondering what was going on.  You watched as he put two plates on the table and moved your flowers from earlier in their vase to the center of the table and started to pack some of the food up in a container.  It was only when the lid snapped that you blinked.

            “ _What are you doing_?” you asked, still holding a spoon in front of you.

            “ _I have some recording to do,_ ” he said absentmindedly.

            “Yeah, but,” you looked around the kitchen and at the table.

            “See ya,” he said, throwing you a smile before leaving.

            “Okay, sure, thanks, bye.”  You stood there in the kitchen for a moment, by yourself, before you huffed.  “Rude.”  Trying not to be hurt, even though you were, mainly because you were very confused, you made yourself a plate, which you promptly almost spilled on yourself when the door opened again.

            “Why—” you started, thinking it was Jin and this was all some stupid trick, but it was Yoongi.  He entered slowly, looking around, maybe wondering if someone was about to jump out at him, and when he saw you he stilled for a moment before he regained his composure.

            “Where is everyone?” he said.

            “Uh,” you said, holding a steaming plate of noodles in your hand, the steam rising to hit your face.  “I think it’s just us?”

            “Oh,” Yoongi said slowly, his face blank until he smirked.  “ _Did we scare them away_?”  You laughed nervously but didn’t say anything.  You weren’t moving, either, much to your embarrassment. 

            “Oh,” you finally squeaked, “ _want some_?” and you practically lunged the plate at him.  He took it gingerly, giving you an odd smile, and took it to the table.  You made another one for yourself and went to sit, too, though you sat across from him, which felt a little abnormal at first, but you liked being able to see him.  He was wearing a navy-blue hoodie, and you thought how well it contrasted with his skin before you concentrated on your food.

            “You dance well,” he said out of nowhere, and you scoffed but then cleared your throat.

            “ _Thanks._ ”  There was something awkward in the air.  A tension you couldn’t quite put your finger on.  It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was different, and different is unsettling for you, because you can’t figure out if things are going well or not.  “Did you, uh, _did you know_?”

            “ _About what_?”

            “ _This,_ ” you said, mumbling into your plate.

            “ _No,_ ” he said, looking around.  “Namjoon said dinner at seven. _So here I am.  Are you upset_?”

            “ _What?  No, why would I be?_ ” you said, looking at him over your plate.  He shrugged.

            “ _It’s just me._ ”  You put your chopsticks down and looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at you, so you kicked him lightly under the table.  He glared up at you, but his gaze quickly softened. 

            “ _I’m glad,_ ” you said, and he smiled lightly.  “Can I, though, may I ask?  _Yesterday you said something._ ”

            “Oh, _I didn’t mean that,_ ” he said, dismissing the idea with a wave of the hand.  “ _You’re not mine.  I mean, you could be, if you wanted to.”_

            “Could?  _Could be what_?”

            “Mine,” Yoongi said, shrugging.  “ _Not in an ownership way.  Not literally._ You know what I mean.  _Sorry if that upset you._ ”

            “Ah, _no,_ ” you said, but then you stopped because you weren’t sure what else to say.  “I want,” you tried again, but he was staring across the table at you, and you clasped your hands in your lap.

            “What do you want?” he said, his voice low, and that combined with the way he was looking at you made your suddenly lose your nerve.

            “I want.  _I want icecream,_ ” you said, and he blinked once before dropping his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching.

            “Okay,” he said, stuffing one last bite into his mouth before pushing away from the table, “ _Let’s go.  It’ll fuck with their plan, anyway.  They probably have hidden cameras around here._ ”  He looked around the room before ushering for you to follow him.  You didn’t think he would take you seriously, so you fumbled a bit before following him out the door.  And he leaned against the elevator wall, and you leaned against the other side, smiling at each other.  He drew a mask out of seemingly nowhere to put on when you stepped outside, and the sun was barely setting as you hurried to the nearest convenient store.  He kept his head low and only mumbled when the cashier rang him up, but you gave a big smile and a wave as you left, your hand already cold from the icecream bar.  You quickly unwrapped it and did your best not to make a mess as you walked back to the dorm.

            “ _Happy now_?” Yoongi said at one point, and you hummed.  You weren’t as sticky as you thought you would be by the time you got back to the dorm, and you dropped your trash in the lobby before entering the elevator again, but this time you followed Yoongi to his side of the elevator wall and stood beside him.

            “Yoongi?” you said.

            “ _Yes?_ ” he said, looking straight forward.

            “I want…”

            “ _What do you want_?”

            “I want to hold your hand,” you said, and before the elevator dinged his fingers intertwined with yours, and you stepped out together, walked down the hall together, and entered the dorm together.  Everything was as you had left it, and you left the dishes and the food out and drew Yoongi to the couch.

            “ _You didn’t really want icecream, did you?_ ” he said as he sat next to you.  You shook your head and smiled, still holding his hand.

            “ _No, but I’m not complaining.  It was good._ ”  You kicked off your shoes and wiggled your toes before bringing your feet to the couch, folding them beneath you.  “Hey, Yoongi?” He looked at you, his eyes sleepy.  “I want.”

            “ _What_?” he said, smirking.

            “ _I want to know how your day was._ ”

            “Oh,” he said, his voice possibly, slightly disappointed as his thumb stroked your hand.  “ _Good.  I kind of feel like I should do a V Live, too, though, since everyone else did, but I’m not big on doing them._ ”

            “ _Why not_?”

            “Eh, _it’s oddly intimate and impersonal all at the same time?  Or I just feel like I’m talking to myself, but getting a ton of questions asked to me while I do so?  I’m not against them, but they’re never the first thing I think of, if that makes sense._ ”

            “ _I think so,_ ” you said, because you were only sure of 75% of what he was saying, but context clues helped you.

            “ _I met with Seijin and worked on more music.  Pretty typical day._ ”

            “Oh, you do this a lot?” you said, squeezing his hand.  He tsked at you but slightly shook his head.  “Hey, _do you know me enough,_ do you know me well enough to tell me about past girlfriends?  _Girlfriends_?  Exes?”

            “Ah,” he said, staring off and slumping further into the couch.  “ _Just one.  Pre-debut.  I was too selfish to make it work at the time._ ”

            “ _You were young,_ ” you said in his defense, but he shrugged.

            “ _Timing wasn’t right.  Or the person.  Or both.  It definitely hurt her more than me._ ”

            “Do you still talk?” you said softly, watching the way he slightly frowned.

            “ _No.  I don’t have many friends, you know._ ”

            “ _I know,_ ” you said, remembering what Jackson had said.  “Hey, Yoongi?”  Another hum.  “I want to be your friend.”

            “You are,” he said, finally looking at you again and smiling.

            “I hope you’ll text me even after I go home,” you said gently, looking down at your clasped hands.  “Which totally isn’t in three days, because no one’s counting.”  He tsked again but didn’t say anything, his head leaning back on the couch.  “Hey, the boys gave me backstage passes.  _Said I could come to your concert_.  _Would that be okay_?”

            “ _Of course.  We’d love to have you,_ ” Yoongi said, and while he didn’t sound nearly as excited as the youngest three had that morning, you knew if he said it, he meant it, so you smiled, content and warm.  Too warm, actually.  You dropped Yoongi’s hand, which caused him to look over at you, so you could take off your jacket.  As you tossed it aside, you noticed Yoongi’s gaze, and you rotated and swept your legs around until they were draped over his legs, and you saw his eyes narrow and the time between his blinks extend.  You leaned back on your wrists, and your dress slid down, just an inch, but Yoongi’s eyes jerked down until he brought them back up to your face.  You smiled at him, what felt like a perfectly idiotic smile to match how insanely loopy you felt.

            “Hey, Yoongi,” you said, and he swallowed and hummed, but you didn’t say anything else, you just watched him, your heart beating faster, and he just watched you, blinking occasionally until he finally brought a hand to your bare knee, and you shivered as his cold fingers met your warm skin.  “God, you’re freezing,” you said.  “ _Why are you cold_?”  He shrugged.

            “ _I’m a pale, walking sugar cane with no emotions, or so I’ve been told._ ”

            “Pft,” you said, smiling.

            “ _You are really hot,_ ” he said.  “ _Why are you so hot_?”

            “Genes, fat, hormones?” you said, shrugging, your face feeling too flushed.

            “ _What do you want_?”  His voice was low again, lazy almost as his fingers played with your knee.  He seemed particularly interested whenever you twitched slightly, one side of your knee more ticklish than the other.

            “ _This is good,_ ” you said, your mouth twitching as goosebumps scattered over your arms.

            “ _This is okay_?” he said gently, and when you nodded he moved his legs out from under you until yours were lying flat on the couch, Yoongi kneeling beside them.  You lowered yourself to your elbows and watched his face, but his eyes were all over the place, and you reached out to touch his wrist that was next to your waist.

            “ _Lay down,_ ” he mumbled, and you did, your hand still on his wrist.  He was practically on his side leaning against the back of the couch, and you lay on your back trying not to bite your lip while you looked up at him.

            “Is this really okay?” he said, his hand hovering over your thigh, looking at your dress.  You thought for one moment, just one moment, that something flashed across his face, a pained look, and you wanted nothing but for him to just forget anything had even happened.  It was just a dress.

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said firmly.

            “But last time,” he whispered.

            “Yoongi, _this isn’t last time,_ ” you said, and he let his hand rest on your thigh, fingering the edge of your dress.  But he stilled almost immediately, looking at his hand, and you took a deep breath and shook your head slightly.  “Hey, Yoongi.  _Where are you_?” you said.

            “ _The dorm.  The couch._ ”

            “ _Who are you with_?”

            “You.  Y/N,” he said, smiling knowingly now, realizing what you were doing, but his gaze never left his hand.

            “ _What are you doing_?”

            “Touching you.”  You pretended to squeal.

            “Oh, touching Y/N on the couch,” you said, but he shushed you, so you let your smile die into pressed lips.  And then into bitten lips as his hand slipped under your dress and moved up your thigh.  And you counted to three, breathing out with each count.

            “Hey, Yoongi, can you look at me?” you managed to say, your voice shaking, and his hand froze again as he looked at you, his face full of concern.  But he looked at you without question, and he licked his lips tentatively as he moved his hand again until he reached the top of your leg, and his thumb brushed against your hipbone once, causing your jaw to lock.  His eyes still glued to yours, Yoongi withdrew his hand and pulled your dress back down before putting his hand on the outside of your hip.  He slowly moved up your side with the slightest brush of his fingers, and you visibly wiggled, your toes curling as you let out a tiny laugh.  He was smiling at you now, and his eyes were a little wider as his fingers left your side and stroked slowly up your arm.  Your hair rose, and your muscles tensed momentarily, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly.  But his hand continued all the way to your collarbone and your throat, and your eyes shot back open as you leaned your head back.  Yoongi’s fingers cupped the back of your neck, and his thumb gently swept under your chin, and you pressed yourself back into the couch.

            “ _Is this okay_?” he said, and his voice sounded lower than you had ever heard it, and you somehow managed to nod even though your chest was practically heaving.  You licked your lips again, looking up at the ceiling now, and you felt Yoongi’s thumb on your neck as you swallowed.  “ _Do that again,_ ” he said, his thumb stilling, and you did, even though your mouth was so dry it felt pointless.  Yoongi’s thumb brushed across your skin once more before he pushed it up into your chin, causing your head to tilt back even more.  But then his hand left, and you were about to lower your head so you could see him better when you felt his hand on your hip, pressing down slightly, and you could see enough to see his head lowering, and you could feel his chest press against yours as he brushed his nose gently up your neck.  You tried to tilt your head back even further, and your hand flew to your mouth when you felt his lips on your collarbone.

            “Okay?” he said simply, his breath making you shiver, and you only whimpered slightly for an answer.  You could feel him smile against your skin as he kissed you again, and you turned your head slightly, covering your eyes with your hand as he placed one, then two kisses up the side of your neck.  When his lips lightly touched the tip of your ear, your hand grasped his hair, and you tugged him up, and you immediately apologized when he winced.

            “ _Sorry,_ ” you said, panting, but he only smirked at you.  “What?” you sighed, annoyed with the way he was looking at you.

            “ _Nothing.  Ear,_ huh?”  _You’re so sensitive.  I kind of thought Tae was exaggerating._ ”

            “Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face with your whole arm this time, and you laid like that, trying to catch your breath, feeling him watching you.

            “What do you want?” he finally said.

            “To crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment,” you mumbled from under your arm.  He laughed lightly, and you felt his hand leave your hip as he sat up, and you peeked out from under your arm, watching him lick his lips.  “What do I taste like?” you said, for some reason, because apparently you had been possessed by something that was out to kill you from pure embarrassment.  Yoongi’s tongue swept across both of his lips again, and he smiled.

            “Icecream and garlic.”

            “Wow, gross,” you said, sitting up and then standing up before Yoongi could even move.  “I’m going to go shower.  Then I want to go to bed, and I want you to cuddle with me,” you said, because you figured, fuck it, you couldn’t get much more ashamed than you already felt.  And Yoongi smirked at you.

            “ _I don’t know, I’m not much of a cuddler._ ”

            “Wow, okay,” you said, stepping over his legs to leave the room, but his hand flew up to catch your wrist, and you turned slightly, looking down at him.  He cleared his throat and swept this hair out of his eyes by shaking his head a little.

            “ _I’m really bad at flirting,_ ” he said oddly, “ _just so you know.  So what I actually meant_ —”

            “Wow,” you said, your mouth open in disbelief.  You opened and closed it a few times before replying.  “ _No, I get it._ Just.  Just. _It’s okay, you know,_ if you want to admit you actually do want to really cuddle with me,” you teased back.  “No judgement. _It’s okay to tell me what you want, too._ ”

            “Yeah,” Yoongi said lamely, dropping your wrist.  You smiled at him before you picked up your jacket and shoes and left the room, well aware of his eyes following you.

            It took him a few more minutes for his body to follow you, too.

 

            “Y/N?” Yoongi muttered, half-asleep.  You hummed back, your muscles relaxed and your eyes shut.  “What I want.  I want you to stay.”  You pressed yourself further back into his chest and squeezed tighter on his hand thrown around you.

            “I know,” you muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Maknae line FTW.  
> 2\. ARMY would totally die if there were 3 V Lives in one day. (PS. I need more Hobi on the Street)  
> 3\. I BLUSHED A LOT WRITING THIS.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have your final interview as your time with the boys is quickly running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.
> 
> 1\. If you had to amputate your leg, would you keep it? Would you taste it? (It’s an important question).  
> 2\. Ft. Another Rant By Yours Truly About Mean ARMIES. Just be kind.  
> 3\. MI-HOPE LIVES.  
> 4\. “We have plenty of time.” “No we don’t.” *Loses it*

**Day 52**

            “Yoongi?” you groaned, your voice a little panic-stricken as you hurried out of bed.  His door was slightly open, so you peered in, but only saw Tae in his bed, so you shut the door and walked down the hallway, only to find Yoongi sitting on a stool, hunched over a cup of coffee.  “Hey,” you said, sighing, “don’t do that again.”

            “ _What_?” he said, looking at you through half-opened eyes.

            “ _Leave without saying anything,_ ” you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  He blinked at you twice, and your mouth opened and shut before you registered Jin standing on the other side of the island, and you ducked your head.  “I don’t know why I said that,” you muttered, “forget it, _forget I said anything._ ”  You continued mumbling to yourself as you turned around and left, and once you were in the hall you slunk down to the ground, burying your head in your hands.

            “ _What was that about_?” you heard Jin say, and part of you knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, so you should get up and go back to your room, but another part of you was too curious and too tired to care.

            “ _We fell asleep last night, and then I woke up.  And now I’m here, drinking this coffee and being interrogated by you,_ ” Yoongi muttered.  It was silent for a moment, and you wondered if Jin was giving him one of his looks.  “ _What_?” Yoongi grumbled.

            “ _Nothing._ ”

            “ _Spit it out, hyung._ ”

            “ _Weren’t you just telling Tae not to sleep with her because it would confuse her_?”

            “ _And him.  That was because I knew he really didn’t like her.  I do.  So this is different._ ”

            “ _That’s not really what I mean,_ ” Jin said, a slight sigh in his voice.

            “ _It’s too early for your cryptic messages, Jin, please._ ”

            “ _You’re confusing her._ ”

            “ _How?  I’ve been pretty clear with her about what I think and feel._ ”

            “ _But she’s leaving soon—_ ”

            “ _Oh, is she_?” Yoongi said sarcastically.  “ _Is that what she keeps mentioning every day_?”

            “ _And that’s not why she was here._ ”

            “ _Why was she here, then?  And before you answer,_ ” Yoongi said, his voice calm, “ _try to imagine what the summer would have been like with someone else.  With one of the fans who was threatening her the other day.  Or one who said she was going to kill herself if Y/N touched one of us.  Really think about it, Jin.  I know it’s been weird, and it hasn’t been perfect, but we got really lucky with Y/N.  You said it yourself weeks ago._ ”  You felt your fingers tighten on your knees at Yoongi’s words, and despite how hungry you were, your stomach felt sick.

            “ _I know, Yoongi, I’m not complaining about Y/N.  I just don’t want her to get hurt.  Or you.  And I know she knows she’s leaving soon, and so do you, but her body and her brain might not be on the same page.  I’m just saying, she’s going to miss you, and you may be making it worse._ ”

            “ _Maybe,_ ” Yoongi muttered, and it got quiet.  And you were as quiet as possible as you went back to your room.

 

            When you came back to the kitchen later, fully dressed for the day and pretending like nothing had happened just ten minutes ago, Yoongi was still drinking his coffee, and Namjoon and Jungkook had joined him, but Jin was already gone.

            “ _Sorry again,_ ” you muttered as you took the stool next to Yoongi.

            “ _What?  The thing about me leaving you in bed or the eavesdropping thing_?”

            “ _Hyung,_ ” Jungkook groaned, making a gagging noise, and you would have laughed if you weren’t slamming your head on the island.

            “ _All of that,_ ” you said, your voice muffled.  You jolted slightly when you felt Yoongi’s hand press down on your head and rub his fingers through your hair.

            “ _So do you agree?  Are you confused?  Going to get hurt_?” Yoongi said calmly.  And you wanted to say no, because you didn’t want him to be confused or hurt, too, but you also wanted to be honest, and you opened your mouth, not sure which answer was going to come out.

            “ _Yes, Jin’s right.  He’s always right,_ ” you whined.  Namjoon’s head whipped around.  “Don’t tell him I said that,” you hissed, and he cracked a smile.  Yoongi hummed once before pulling his hand away to wrap around his coffee as he took another sip.  “Oh, shit,” you said, sitting up and turning to Yoongi, realizing how bad you had just fucked up.  “You’re not making it worse.  _It’s not worse._ That part’s not true.  Jin’s not always right, of course he isn’t.  He can’t be that pretty and be right all the time,” you said, hoping it came off in a humorous way, but you just sounded desperate.  Yoongi’s face was calm though, so you calmed down a bit.

            “ _You’re definitely right about that,_ ” Yoongi said, rolling his eyes and drowning the rest of his coffee.  “ _I’m off.  Come by the studio later if you want,_ ” he said to you before leaving.

            “Sure,” you said lamely, and started to pick at Jungkook’s food as he took Yoongi’s seat.  He tried twice to pull his plate away and then just let you, much to your delight.  “Hey, can we have family dinner tonight?” you asked Namjoon, and he raised his eyebrows at the request.  “Group dinner.  Whatever.  No more weird setting me up stuff, whatever that was.  Was that your idea?”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Namjoon said, turning away.

            “Oh come on,” you scoffed, “Yoongi said you to told him to be here at seven.”

            “So was it a bad idea?  Did it go alright?”

            “Oh,” you stuttered, slightly blushing, and your ears got even redder when Namjoon turned around to look at you, “yeah, sure, it was fine.”

            “Well, you can thank Mr. Pretty for that, then.”

            “What?  Seriously, it was Jin’s idea?” you said, your mouth open.  You almost chocked as Jungkook stuffed a bite of rice in it.  Namjoon just nodded.

            “We’ll all be here tonight.  After all, you leave in two days.”

            “Yeah,” you said, trying not to sound happy or sad but failing miserably at not sounded just absolutely devastated.  “Oh, can Mina come?”

            “Sure.  Maybe ask Hoseok first, though?”

            “Okay, I’ll track him down,” you said, taking another bite of Jungkook’s breakfast.

            “Just text him?”

            “Don’t have his number,” you said, your mouth full.

            “Oh, I’ll tell him, then,” Namjoon said, shrugging.

            “Thanks.  Hey, Namjoon,” you said before he left, “I have my last interview today.  Is there anything you want me to say?  Not say?”

            “Just be honest, Y/N.  Just be yourself,” he said, giving you one of his reassuring smiles.

            “Okay,” you mumbled, reaching for Jungkook’s plate.  He sighed and handed it over to you before walking away.  “ _Put a shirt on!_ ” you yelled after him, but he just raised his hand dismissively. 

            Just be yourself.  Here’s the thing.  You were one of the most genuine people you knew.  You knew it, your family knew it, your friends knew it, the boys knew it, shoot, even strangers meeting you for the first time could tell almost immediately how genuine you were.  And you weren’t old enough to have a “mid life crisis” yet, but you had had plenty of identity crises. You knew that acting a certain away around one person and different way around another person didn’t necessarily make you a liar.  You knew enough about public speaking and communication in general to know that who your audience was always mattered.  Shoot, they taught you that in 9th grade basically.  You have to appeal to your audience, and sometimes that means making yourself a little different from how you normally are.  And there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with that.  It’s not like you would walk into your classroom and start cussing in front of them.  Nor would you bring up drinking around a recovering alcoholic.  Or share a secret with someone you knew loved to gossip.  It was just common sense mixed with years of experience.  You knew it mattered how you portrayed yourself around certain people.

            Which led to the current problem.  If Namjoon said to be yourself, which “yourself” should you actually be?  At your core you were pessimistic and hated injustice.  You believed there would always be bad people in the world, and even though you also felt like it was your mission to train up a new generation to not be bad, you knew someone, somewhere would always make a decision to intentionally hurt others.  You had grown up watching too much Teen Titans and X-Men movies, probably, because a fire burned within you whenever you saw anyone treating someone else poorly or anytime you saw someone breaking any concrete or unspoken rule.  So that self wanted to tell ARMY to stop.  To fucking stop.  Because those who were saying awful things about you and the boys were wrong.  And someone needed to tell them that.  And sometimes, though you hated stooping to their level, sometimes people who were mean only understood one language: that of anger.  And you were angry enough to contemplate cussing out their stupid asses.

            The other part of yourself was kind and sympathetic and believed in grace and second chances.  You were a teacher, after all, and giving up on a student, on a person, wasn’t possible for you.  So that part of you wanted to just hug everyone and let them know you were sorry they were feeling so jealous and sad and you wished they could all spend time with the boys like you had.  Each ARMY was a person, and therefore needed to be loved and validated.  And you wanted to somehow do that for each of them.

            And then there was the part of yourself which hated every part of you.  Which wanted to accept the negative comments and abuse and believe they were right.  Wanted to justify the inexcusable actions and deem them as acceptable.  This part of you wanted to apologize for the summer and continue to take the hits.  To run away and leave the boys behind because you hated how much harder you had made their lives.  To maybe lose yourself in a bottle of liquor.  No.  This part of you wasn’t as strong as it was two months ago.  It was still there; it would always be there, but you didn’t it want it to do all of the talking today.

            Namjoon said to be yourself.  So you would be.  It was ultimately up to the company to decided which part of you, if any part of you, they wanted to show, anyway, so you would just have to trust them.

            So you sat in the interview room, looking across the table at a staff person, missing Mina immensely, because something about doing one last interview without her seemed wrong, and hoping beyond hope that the wisest, most rational, and calmest part of you would take over once the questions began.  You thought of your friends who would be watching this, and of the boys, and you nodded when you were ready to begin.

            “So, how was your summer with the boys?” came the first question, and you took your time before answering, your brain fast-forwarding through the past two months.  You didn’t feel pressured to answer immediately, because you knew they would edit it, so when you were ready you finally said,

            “Spectacular.  This is going to sound lame, because sometimes words aren’t enough to really explain something.  This summer was really a once-in-a-life-time opportunity, and a life-changing one.  If you’ve ever been to a summer camp, you may know a little of what I’m talking about.  You make new friends, you go to new places, you try new things, you eat new foods.  And when you leave you feel devastated, because you’re leaving all this great stuff behind, so you go home sad but also feeling really light, like you’re ready to face the world again.  So it’s been a little like that.  I can’t thank BigHit and the boys and all the staff enough for having this contest and for being so accommodating and welcoming.  I learned a lot and am just really, really grateful.”

            “What has been your favorite part?”  You smiled and laughed to yourself at all of the memories that sprang to mind.

            “It’s basically impossible to pick one favorite thing.  But, if I was forced to, maybe I would say the laughter.  Just every time somebody laughed.  Because I can picture their faces in my head and see how their eyes squinted and hear the sound of their laugh.  I mean, I laughed a lot, too.  Every English lesson and every Run episode would usually just dissolve into a mess of laughter, and I don’t think it can get any better than that.  That’s one of the special things about the guys.  ARMY knows it.  Everyone may like them for a different reason, but I don’t think a single person would deny how happy the boys make them.  How watching them smile and laugh makes smiling and laughing easier.  It’s no different for me, then, and I feel so, so lucky to have heard them laugh so much in person this summer, and to even make them laugh a few times myself.”

            “Who made you laugh the most?”

            “Oh,” you said, not really expecting the question and pausing to consider.  “Jin or Jungkook, probably.  They both have this way of acting completely goofy just to get someone else to laugh.  I do that, too, even though I didn’t, like, at all this summer.  But when you see someone is sad and you don’t know what to do, making weird faces or embarrassing yourself always seems to work.  They’re really, how should I put it, extra?  But it was endearing.”

            “What was the hardest part of the summer?”

            “Oh,” you said again, wondering how personal to be.  “Um, dealing with myself?  I mean, imagine having your favorite band tell you you were going to live with them for the summer.  Okay?  Right, everyone watching this has probably already imagined that.  And in our heads, it just sounds like a dream.  Like a utopian dream.  Like everything will go perfectly.  And we forget that life happens, and we have a personality that may not mesh completely with seven other people we’re meeting for the first time.  Not that the boys and I didn’t get along.  But I struggled to be myself and feel comfortable for a long time.  It was so exciting, but it was also nerve wracking.  It takes me awhile to open up and feel comfortable with people, but I realized while here that if you have such a short time span, you’re going to have to get comfortable and open up fast or you’re going to miss out on a lot of good things.  I wasted a lot of time while here, and I regret that.  I’ll regret it for a long time, and that ruminating, thinking on everything I did wrong or poorly, will keep me from just enjoying all of the good times I had.  And that’s probably the hardest part about this whole thing.  Feeling like I wasted time.”  You paused and looked away, almost as if you felt like you were wasting time now, and you just wanted to go sit with the boys.

            “So this summer,” the staff member went on, “you spent a lot of time with the boys, collectively and individually.  I’m sure ARMY would love to hear about the time you spent with them.”

            “I don’t know,” you cut in, but you smiled sweetly.  “I mean, some ARMY are just really jealous and possessive.”

            “Ah,” the interviewer said, “what do you think about that?”

            “Okay,” you said, leaning forward on the table and lacing your fingers together, “so several months ago BigHit released information about this contest.  Thousands of people entered.  Most of them probably thought they would be the one to win.  Which is the first problem.  Because thousands of people were going to be disappointed.  So that was the first thing that happened.  You,” you said, pointing to the camera, “didn’t win.  And now, months later, you’re watching V Live or looking at YouTube one day and you see this new BTS video, but there’s some girl in it.  And it’s not some elderly lady teaching them to cook, it’s a young lady who’s laughing with them and standing near them and talking to them.  And something in your heart or your entire soul just plummets.  Cracks.  Leaves your body.  Like you see white, hot stars of rage, or you cry.  Because that girl isn’t you.  Be honest, how many of you did this?”  You paused, feeling almost as if you were Dora the Explorer waiting for someone to answer while simultaneously knowing no one would answer.  “I know how upset people are that I’m here.  I know how many people wish it wasn’t me but them.  I know how people now hate me, a total stranger, people hate me who haven’t even met me.  And more people will hate me.  I know it will happen.  And because you’re jealous, or whatever, you’ll think insulting me and sending me death threats is acceptable.  And I just want to say two things.  First, it’s not.  You are wrong to do that.  If you can not see why it is wrong, please have a trusted teacher or parent or adult explain to you how and why you are wrong.  Second, if you have to, if you can’t help yourself, then leave the boys out of it.  You can’t call yourself a fan if you are rude to them.  It’s that simple.  They do everything for you, everything for us.  They fall down, bruise themselves, make their voices crack and hoarse, lose sleep, break down, cry, they do all of that for you.  They selflessly love a bunch of people they’ve never even met.  They’re constantly looking out for your happiness.  So if you claim to love them back and want them to be happy, be kind.  But if you absolutely can’t, attack me,” you said, pressing your hand on your heart, trying not to freak out at how fast it was beating.  “I am sorry I was here this summer and not you,” you said softer.  “I wouldn’t trade my days with anyone for anything in the world, but I wish you had all gotten to be here, too.  The boys wish that, too, you know?”  You stopped, trying to calm down and collect your thoughts, and your brain started to go over everything you had already said, wondering what you had left out or needed to explain more, but the staff member moved on.

            “I heard you’re not a fan of this question, but if you had to see yourself with one of the guys, who would it be?”  You laughed, picturing Mina’s professional, serious face, and you smiled politely.

            “This question is such a trap!  ARMY will be upset with me no matter who I answer, if I answer at all, and someone will get hurt!  But I do think, I do think this summer has taught me a little more about how important it is to say how you’re feeling.  Even though it’s terrifying.  But, I think,” you said, staring off into the corner, a smile on your lips, “the ARMY conspiracy theorists will think of something.  For those who don’t hate me, there will probably be some people shipping me with one of the guys.  They’ll probably look through the videos and make their own videos trying to prove who I’m in love with or something.”  You laughed at the absurd and yet totally feasible idea.  “I just want to say, that makes me laugh, and I hope people have fun with that, but also I have to say something about shipping.  It’s another problem with expectations.  I’m all for shipping fictional characters.  But when it comes to real people, well, it’s real life.  And the boys, despite how far away they seem from you, are real.  When you ship them with anyone, and I’m talking romantically, specifically, you get an expectation created in your mind that becomes your truth.  And all you know are your truths.  So if you’re a fan of TaeKook, for instance, but you may see me holding hands with Tae this summer, well, you will see me holding hands with Tae this summer, and that spark of nausea or rage may ignite in you again, because in your mind Tae is somehow cheating on Jungkook or something?  You may be sitting there thinking that I sound crazy or what I’m saying is absurd, but hopefully you know it’s also true.  There are some people who think like that.  So, have fun figuring how who you think I could ‘see myself with,’” you said, using air quotes as you smiled, “but be careful, too.”

            “Do you have an advice for anyone who might want to date the boys?”

            “Might want to?” you said, laughing.  “Everyone wants to date them.  But okay.  ARMY, if one day you hope to snag one of the boy’s hearts, or all of them, whatever, I would say a couple of things.  First, you’re going to have to get along with all of them.  I mean, I can’t imagine what would have happened if just one of the boys and I didn’t get along.  Maybe they secretly hate me, but I feel like we’re all on friendly terms with each other.  I know I’m closer to some of them than others, but they live together and work together and are family, and family that wants to be together, do you know what I mean?  So you will have to be a person that is well-liked and can be polite and put up with a variety of different personalities.  And, honestly, those people are probably few and far between.”  You stopped, because you were thinking about how special Mina was, but you realized that it probably sounded like you were praising yourself.  “Oh, that sounded really egotistical.  No, I mean, the boys are so nice that it’s probably easier than I’m making it sound to get along with them.  It’s really easy to like them,” you stuttered and recovered as quickly as possible.  “Secondly, you’re going to have to be okay with random strangers insulting you for the rest of your life.  You’re going to have to be strong enough to not let the lies people spew about how ugly you are get to you.  You’ll have to be okay with having most of your life be either really private or too public and be okay with being swarmed if you’re ever out with the boys, or one of them.  I think that’s a part of it most people don’t think about.  Or they think that they can handle it.  But I don’t know,” you said, looking off into the corner again.  “Honestly, I don’t think I’m handling it well.  I’ve never had anyone tell me to kill myself.  I’ve never had anyone threaten to kill themselves if I touched a specific someone.  So, yeah,” you mumbled, “you’d have to be okay with a lot of hate.  And finally, even though this goes with any relationship, friends or more, you’ll have to communicate.  Just suck it up, get over yourself, stop being so prideful and scared and talk to him, or whoever you want.  Just say how you feel and what you think and share your opinions and concerns and talk things out.  Way easier said than done,” you said, smiling again, “but that’s super important.”  You took a deep breath, getting tired, so you were glad when the interviewer said,

            “Okay, last question.  Just, anything else you’d like to share?”

            “I want to sincerely the boys, and the staff and crew.  _Thank you, everyone, for being so nice to me.  For welcoming me.  I am so happy to,_ to have spent my summer here.  _I laughed and learned a lot.  Thank you to the translators and people writing subtitles.  Thank you to my interpreter,_ who spent the summer with me making sure I had everything I needed.  She is amazing.  I’m so lucky, and so happy that I made so many friends, but her especially.  Also, _to my driver friend, thank you for looking out for me.  I wish everyone luck and health._ And ARMY, just a final reminder.  To love others, first love yourself.  Everything you say and do matters and affects someone else.  So be kind.  The boys love you, so make them proud.”  You smiled warmly at the camera and at the staff member who thanked you and gave you a small bow before leaning back in your chair and taking a deep breath.  Just another thing you would never do again, you thought as the staff member closed up the camera.  It felt odd how talking in front of the camera had gotten easier, but part of that was probably because you hadn’t even watched your interviews played back.  And you didn’t want to.  You tried not to think about how your interviews would go over, if they were ever shown, as you shuffled down to Yoongi’s studio.  He answered with a smile but not a word, and you placed yourself on the couch, checking in with your mom and catching up on work e-mails.  A twinge went through your stomach when you realized you had to be back at work in less than a week.  You had a lot to catch up on.  You definitely weren’t ready.  But you still didn’t want to think about all of it yet.  No, you wanted to, but that was only part of you, and you tried to tell that part to go away and let the side of you who could just enjoy the few hours you had left come out.  A small sigh escaped your lips as you laid back on the couch, your phone above your chest, and Yoongi thankfully stir from his chair.  You didn’t want to bother him.  So you texted Mina instead to see if she was coming to dinner.

            “Yes!  Hoseok invited me.  What should I wear?”  Oh, you thought, looking down at your light jeans and yellow shirt.  Mina was classy, and even if it was a casual dinner at the dorm, she probably wanted to dress up.

            “You tell me,” you sent back, and it was a few minutes before she sent a picture of herself in a blue dress.  She looked gorgeous, of course, but way too formal.  “It’s not a business dinner,” you told her.  So after a few more minutes she sent another picture of herself in a much more casual, fun sun dress.  “Damn,” you sent, “you look so cute.  I can’t compete with that.”

            “Good thing you just need to impress Yoongi, then,” she sent, and you laughed out loud.  Yoongi turned at that, and you looked at him sheepishly.

            “ _Sorry,_ ” you muttered.

            “ _What’s funny_?” he smiled.

            “Oh,” you said, wondering if you should tell him, looking at Mina’s text and then back to him.  “Mina’s coming to dinner.  Trying to decide what to wear.  She said, _I should just worry_ , worry about impressing you.”

            “Impress me?  _With what you wear_?”

            “Yeah,” you answered dumbly.

            “Oh.  I don’t care.  Wear that,” he said, pointing at your current outfit.

            “ _No, it should look nice._ ”

            “ _You do,_ ” he said, shrugging.

            “ _I need to wear a dress or something,_ ” you muttered, looking back at your phone.  Yoongi turned around and went back to his work, but you still heard him after a few moments over the clicking of his mouse.

            “ _Wear the dress from the other day._ ”

            “The dress from yesterday, _yesterday?_ ”

            “Yeah,” he said, shrugging again, and you laughed softly again.

            “Okay,” you said, but he probably didn’t hear you.

 

            When you were hungry and Jimin invited you to the dance room to eat, you didn’t say no, and were delighted to see Tae and Jungkook already eating with him.

            “ _They wouldn’t wait,_ ” Jimin pouted, but you didn’t care.  You wedged yourself him and Tae and fought of Jungkook’s chopsticks.

            “ _Not again,_ ” he groaned, conceding defeat and lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling instead.  You talked of nothing and everything between bites.  What were they excited about on tour?  How were their families doing?  If they had to amputate their leg for medical reasons, like there was no way to save it, and the rest of your body was fine, would they keep the leg or throw it away.

            “ _What_?  _That’s nasty,_ ” Jimin said.  “ _We’re eating._ ”

            “Okay, so you wouldn’t keep it.  I’m so not surprised,” you muttered.  “Tae?  Jungkook.” 

            “ _Keep it,_ ” they said in unison, and again you weren’t surprised.

            “Okay, okay, _now, would you eat it?_ Taste it?”

            “Y/N!” Jimin said, almost chocking, but more because he was laughing so hard.  Tae looked really serious as he thought, but Jungkook answered immediately.

            “ _Totally.  I bet I taste good._ ”

            “Oh my god,” Jimin sighed, but he still went for another bite of chicken.

            “I would not,” Tae said, and you nodded.  “ _But I would make it into a lamp or something._ ”  The three of you burst out laughing.  “ _Shave it, put a little shade on it.  Oh, you could change the shoes and socks depending on the season._ ”

            “Ok, now I’m sorry I asked,” you said, pushing him away from you.  You were at a loss for what weird question to ask next, so you all just finished eating and cleaned up.

            “Let’s go to our park,” Tae said when you were done.  The two other boys hesitated, each supposed to be meeting with someone, but you threw a pouty face at them, and then Tae joined in, and both Jimin and Jungkook caved, much to your delight.

            Sure, you had to go with a manager and security, but it felt good to be outside, and you hoped it was good for the boys, too.  And while there were a few stares, and you didn’t stay as long as you would have liked, you all ran around the playground, doing well not to knock any children over, petted dogs on leashes when the owners let you, took turns pushing each other in the swings, took way too many pictures of each other, and laughed until tears rolled down your face and your side hurt.  You were squatting down next to a little girl picking flowers when Tae came over to you, his face calm now and a mask over his mouth.  He waved at the little girl, who looked a little apprehensive, and threw a thumb behind his shoulder.

            “ _Dad says we have to go,_ ” he said, pointing at his manager.  You laughed again, which probably scared and confused the girl even more, and stood up, brushing off your hands on your pants.  You waved to the girl and got out your phone to text Jin about any supplies needed for dinner, and he sent you an extensive list.

            “Damn,” you sent back, “ _sounds like a party._ ”  In the car you told the three boys about needing to go to the store—several stores, because Jin insisted on getting certain meats from a specific store and produce from another and wine from another—to buy things for dinner.  They seemed willing enough, and you thanked them, laughing as they each had something to say about how picky and obsessive Jin was.  But each word was still endearing, and soon the car was full of bags, and by the time you all pulled back up to the dorm, the car was full of bags and a variety of smells.

            You all thanked the driver as you hoped out, and in the building’s courtyard Tae stopped and put his bags on the ground.  You turned around to look at him, and he was smiling.

            “ _This is where I told Y/N I liked her,_ ” he said proudly, and Jimin and Jungkook raised their eyebrows.

            “Ah, _yes,_ and I was all, _I can’t,_ ” you said dramatically, pushing a hand with a bag dangling from it toward him before walking quickly away.  Tae just left the bags on the ground to the annoyance of the other two to chase after you.  By the time you were all in the elevator, the boys were recalling something else that made them all laugh, and Tae had taken the bags from you but kept his hand in yours, and you swung it back and forth down the hall, following Jungkook and Jimin into the dorm.  You were all certainly loud, and Jin’s complaint about you being late—when he hadn’t even given you a time to arrive—only made everyone argue louder.  There was banter in everyone’s voice, though, so you just laughed and waved at Namjoon and Yoongi who were both on the couch, watching the scene unfold.  They both smiled back at you, though you bit your lip at Yoongi’s narrowed eyes.  Excusing yourself to go “freshen up,” you realized why he might be upset as you put your aqua dress back on and threw a denim jacket over it.  He looked up again when you came back down the hall, and he watched as you came right up to him, looking at him straight in the eye, and leaned down, placing your hands on both of his legs.

            “I was holding Tae’s hand,” you said softly, mere inches from his face.  “ _Sorry._ ”  Yoongi cocked his head at you.

            “It’s okay.”

            “You’re not jealous?” you said, and he shook his head.

            “ _No, I trust Tae, and I trust you.  I meant other guys.  Not any of them,_ ” he said, waving his hand around the room.

            “Okay,” you said, standing up, but his hand reached up to grab yours, and you smiled down at him.

            “ _I like your dress,_ ” he said softly, and your cheeks flushed as you mumbled thanks and said something about helping Jin to cook.  As you left, you thought you heard Namjoon say something about “cute.”

            Jin had made you buy too much food, you were pretty sure, but you weren’t going to tell him that, so instead you helped chop as always and even let Jungkook help because it looked like it was going to take forever, and Jin shooed Jimin and Tae away to set the table and keep out of the way, and someone put on some music, and Jimin came back to grab the wine, and you got lost in the movements of cooking until someone was shouting and you turned to see J-Hope followed by Mina entering the room.  J-Hope looked ecstatic, a huge smile on his face, and while Mina looked slightly uncomfortable at first, she gave you the biggest hug and resisted bowing to the rest of the boys, opting for a small wave instead.

            “Sit by me at dinner,” you said, and she nodded until you shooed her and J-Hope away to sit in the living room, but you couldn’t help stealing glances every once in awhile, sometimes poking Jin to turn around and look, too, and he smiled at the way J-Hope practically only had eyes for Mina, rubbing her back or holding her hand, and always giving her eye contact, and you melted just a little.  But maybe that was because you were standing so close to the stove, so you stripped your jacket off and helped Jin and Jungkook finish, feeling quite exhausted by the time you had set everything on the table.  You rearranged everyone before you all sat down so you were across from Yoongi and by Jin and Mina, who was by J-Hope.  Namjoon still set at the head of the table, and the youngest three crowded next to Yoongi.  You felt the tiniest, tiniest bit of envy by the way Mina and J-Hope seemed so natural and at how unbothered everyone else seemed to be around them.  It made sense; she had known them longer, and J-Hope’s affection was usual, too.  Plus, she wasn’t about to leave in two days.  It was just tiny, though, because you loved them both and were genuinely happy for them, but it apparently was enough for you to stop involving yourself in the conversation as much, and you started to just listen and watch, trying to soak everything in.  At one point J-Hope cleared his throat and took Mina’s hand in his.

            “ _So we have an announcement,_ ” he said with a smile on his face.

            “ _Oh my god, already_?” Yoongi said, and you swear J-Hope kicked him under the table.

            “ _The company’s going to allow us to date._ ”

            “ _What?_ ” Jimin practically shrieked, rising out of his seat a little.

            “Wow,” you breathed, smiling.  “That’s huge.”

            “ _Congratulations,_ ” Jin said, raising his glass.  You all followed suit, and you had never seen Mina smile so much.  You were happy, so unbelievably happy, seeing the two of them like this, and you kept the smile on your face after dinner was over and the dishes were cleared.  But as everyone moved to the living room, you purposefully sat apart from Yoongi.  You were still smiling and laughing at Tae and Jungkook’s antics and the way J-Hope would throw himself into a conversation with a loud noise without a moment’s warning.  But you played with the bottom of your dress and rarely looked at Yoongi.  You did, at first, but the way he was looking at you made you look less and less.  He looked so concerned, his face somehow soft and yet furrowed, and you couldn’t deal with it at the moment.  You excused yourself to go to the bathroom.  And you stayed in there a little too long, sitting on the toilet seat, spinning your phone in your hand as your head spun.

            You didn’t want to be jealous.  You didn’t want one more of your stupid emotions to ruin your evening or anyone else’s.  Was it too much to ask to want what Mina had now?  What basically all of your friends had?  Someone to hold you and take care of you?  Someone you could take care of and hold?

“Aish,” you said to yourself, taking a deep breath and telling yourself to just go be happy.  There was nothing wrong with being happy.  You didn’t always have to find something wrong in every situation.  When you opened your door to your room, Yoongi was leaning against the other side of the hallway, and he pushed himself forward when he saw you.

            “You okay?” he said, his eyes obviously studying your face because he knew it would give you away before your words did.  You nodded, because you really were, but you also added,

            “ _I got a little sad.  I want…_ ” Your pause was enough for him, and he took a step closer to you, his voice low.

            “ _What do you want_?”

            “ _I want what they have.  I want someone,_ ” you muttered, and you regretted it instantly, the way Yoongi’s smirk left his face.

            “Y/N,” he said, leaning against your door frame, “ _I don’t want to say this again, okay?  If you want someone, you have someone._ ”

            “Yeah, but,” you started, but he crossed his arms.

            “ _Don’t say it._ ”

            “Okay,” you said, a little annoyed, “I’ll just pretend nothing’s happening in two days, is that what you want?” and you took a step closer to him, pressing your lips and glaring up at him.

            “No, _I want you to stop acting like something is ending in two days._ ”

            “ _For something to end, there has to be something,_ ” you said, and he sucked in his breath and shook his head at you.

            “ _This isn’t something_?” he almost growled, suddenly standing up and wrapping his arm around you, his hand on the small of your back.  His other hand found yours, and he laced your fingers together while pulling you closer to him.  Your other hand still held your phone, and it was pressed against his chest, and you looked up at him, your annoyance melting into the truth.

            “I’m scared,” you trembled, and his grip immediately slackened.  His face fell a little, too, and it made your heart hurt.  “ _Not of you._ Of.  Everything else.”  He just looked down at you, his face softening with each second.

            “Hey,” he finally said. “ _You want to go to bed_?”

            “What?” you sputtered.

            “ _I’m so tired,_ ” he muttered.

            “ _It’s,_ like, _only ten o’clock,_ ” you said, moving your phone enough so you could see the screen.

            “ _Perfect,_ ” he smiled.  “ _Come say goodnight to everyone._ ”  You couldn’t say anything in response or stop him as he pulled away from you, but your hand stayed in his grasp as he pulled you gently down the hall.  At the end of it, you both poked out your heads around the corner.  Yoongi waved to everyone, and you flashed a hopefully convincing smile at Mina.

            “ _We’re going to bed, everyone, goodnight,_ ” he said, sounding way too cheerful, and his face had a stupid boxy grin on it.

            “Uh, _goodnight everyone,_ ” you managed to stutter, ignoring the smile Jimin was giving you and the freaking eyebrow wiggle Jungkook made in your direction, and before they had even all responded Yoongi dragged you back down the hall.

            “Yoongi,” you hissed, “they’re going to think…”  And Yoongi laughed.  Louder than you had ever heard him, and it startled you for a moment before you groaned and pinched the back of his arm.  “ _I can not believe you._ I have a reputation.  How dare you,” you said, trying to sound upset, but you only sounded amused.

            “Okay, change, I’ll be back,” Yoongi said, letting go of your hand in front of your door.  And suddenly you felt nervous, a nervousness you hadn’t felt in a long time sitting next to the one glass of wine you had had, and you couldn’t help but stop and look at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth.  For a moment, you thought you were looking at one of Jisung’s pictures because you barely recognized yourself.  You had lost some weight over the summer, sure, and Korean food had been doing wonders for your health, but there was something tugging at the edge of your mouth and the corner of your eyes, and made your stomach flip a little.  You looked peaceful.  More relaxed than you had in, well, in months, and that made your heart beat faster for some reason out of excitement, and you hurried back to your room and opened your door to find Yoongi leaning against the wall again.  He had changed into sweats, and his face was washed, but otherwise he looked the same, so you weren’t sure why you noticed the way a strand of his hair stuck intently to his still semi-wet forehead, or the way his collarbone stuck out from beneath his shirt, or how his bare toes wiggled a little on the wood floor.

            “Hey,” he said, smiling at you.

            “Hey,” you said back, and, not wanting to feel any more awkward than you did, you ushered him inside and closed the door.  You looked at the doorknob the moment you let go, and took it again, but Yoongi’s hand came down on yours.

            “ _It’s okay,_ ” he said, a slight laugh in his voice.  But when you looked back at him, he was just standing there, his eyes searching your face again, and you were the one to reach down and take his hand, pulling him gently toward the bed.  You sat on the bed, your legs crossed, and Yoongi copied your stance as he climbed on top of your blankets.

            “ _Do you want to talk or touch_?” he said casually, and you almost snorted.  You thought about how you were leaving in two days, no matter what Yoongi said, and you thought about how you could call and text, if he actually wanted to, but in two days you would be thousands of miles away from him and his hands and—

            “Touch, please,” you said, smiling, and Yoongi smirked, scooting to one side of the bed.

            “Okay, lay down, please,” he said, smiling at the word.  You rolled your eyes slightly and obeyed, wiggling your legs and hips down until you were flat on your bed, your head in a mound of pillows.  You crossed your arms across your stomach because you weren’t really sure what else to do with them and looked up at Yoongi.  He was biting his lip and humming, looking up and down you, and you had to laugh.

            “ _What are you doing_?” you said, but he didn’t respond except to hum again and tap his thumb nail against his teeth a few times.

            “Okay, relax, _no tensing your muscles,_ ” he said, reaching first for your clasped hands, untangling them and letting one fall to your side while pulling the other one up in the air.  He spun your hand a few times, his fingers playing lightly on your skin before he cupped it and leaned forward to kiss your wrist, his cold lips on your warm skin causing you to shiver slightly.

            “Okay?” he said, bringing his other hand up, and you nodded.

            “Yeah, I’m just a little tic—” your arm tensed involuntarily as he ran a finger down it all the way to your underarm.

            “ _No tensing,_ ” he muttered, doing it again, and he had to do it five more times before you stopped trying to pull your arm away, even though the sensation still made you flinch, just slightly.  He hummed, apparently satisfied, and put your hand back over your stomach before scooting down closer to your legs.  His hand cupped your calf muscle, moving your leg until it was bent, your knee in the air.  He ran his fingers up and down your shin, and you couldn’t help the way your knee jostled slightly, and you let out a small breath when his nails scrapped over your skin.

            “ _Is this okay_?”

            “Yes, Yoongi, _you don’t have to, every time._ ”  His hand stilled on the top of your knee, and he looked down at you, his eyes narrow.

            “ _Did you say yes to him?_ ”  You sighed a bit, knowing why he was asking, but part of you was annoyed he was bringing it up.  “ _Did you say no_?”

            “ _No,_ ” you mumbled.  You hadn’t been able to say anything.  Your head had screamed and pounded, but your mouth didn’t open, your body went numb.

            “ _Then until I know for sure what I can and can’t do, I’m going to ask.  Get used to it,_ ” he said, and while his voice sounded slightly sad, and you knew it was because he really, really never wanted to hurt you, it also sound determined, and you nodded even though he was back to looking at your leg.  He had found that spot again that made you twitch, and you willed your body not to knee him in the face as he bent down to kiss your knee.

            “Okay?” he murmured, his bottom lip brushing up against your skin.  You hummed in response, and he reached his head around to place one kiss on the inside of your thigh below your shorts, and you definitely almost kneed him in the head, then, but his hand was holding it in place and he looked up at you now, causing you to lick your lips.  He sat back up and put your leg back down, running his hand over it once as if to smooth it out before he repositioned himself.  He lay on his side next to you, leaning on his elbow, his head propped up by his hand near your chest, and watched almost lazily as his other hand rested on your thigh.  He idly moved it back and forth a few times before his fingers found the bottom of your pants and he tugged lightly at them before putting just his fingertips under the hem.

            “Okay?” he said, but the way he almost cleared his throat made you grin as you said,

            “Yeah.”  So his whole hand moved up, your shorts moving with it, until he paused.  He sat up, his hand still on your thigh, and you lifted your head, wondering what was wrong.

            “ _You have a tattoo_?” he said, his voice clearly a little shocked.  You laughed and reached down to pull your shorts up out of the way.  He moved his hand but sat up and leaned across you to get a better view.

            “It was on my application,” you said, amused.  He hummed, clearly still a little surprised, and he moved your hand out of the way to take over holding your shorts out of the way while he traced the design with his other hand.  “ _Is that okay?_ I know some people…”

            “ _It’s cool,_ ” he said simply.  You watched him, your arms folded again over your chest, watched the way his eyes followed his fingers, watched the way his chest rose and fell, watched the way one side of his mouth was slightly higher than the other, watched the way his head cocked from side to side like he was trying to see you from every angle.  It terrified and fascinated you all at the same time, and you swallowed hard.

            “ _Did it hurt?  When you got it_?”  Yoongi said, his fingers running over your tattoo.

            “ _Not really._ Not as much as I thought it would,” you said, and he hummed in response.  You felt his hand tighten slightly on your thigh while his other one reached around behind you, and he pulled, saying softly,

            “ _Lie on your side._ ”  You rolled until you were, your hands still laced in front of your chest, and you watched as Yoongi left one hand on your hip and used his other one to control himself as he sunk down next to you.

            “Hi,” you said when his face was finally in front of you, and he smirked.

            “Hi.  All good?”

            “Yep,” you said, smiling at him.  He took your hands in his and started to run his fingers over your knuckles, and you felt his other hand running over the band of your shorts, his thumb and index finger playing with the hem of your shirt.

            “ _Do you feel me_?” he asked, his voice low, and he looked completely serious, but you winkled your nose because it was such an odd question.

            “Yes,” you said, drawing the word about, but Yoongi just nodded, his hair rustling against the pillow.

            “Okay, tell me, _tell me if you want me to stop._ ”  God, no one had ever said that to you before.  Not in Korean or in English.  And you brushed your lip over your teeth several times because you really didn’t want to cry right now, so you just scooted a little bit closer and held his hand a little bit harder.  And you may have gasped just a little when you felt his hand reach under your shirt and barely touch your back.  His eyes immediately darted across your face, but you just smiled.

            “ _Cold,_ ” you muttered, and he nodded in understanding.  But his hand warmed up quickly, or you got used to the cool sensation as best as you could, considering that his fingers tracing patterns on your back was causing you to shiver a little more than you would have liked to admit.  But you relaxed, you relaxed so much your eyes closed, and wanted to stay shut, but you forced them open so you could look at Yoongi’s face.  His eyes looked sleepy, too, and his smile was one of contentment. 

            “ _I like your face,_ ” you blurted out, and his fingers curled against your back as he laughed.  And it was his turn to lie still as you pulled your hand out from his grasp and placed it gently on the side of his face.  He smiled into it, and you felt brave enough to run your finger down the bridge of his nose and trace his jawline.  You brushed the hair out of his forehead a couple of times, liking the way his hair was a tiny bit rough against his smooth skin.  And you cupped his face and ran your thumb over his chin, and you could feel how intently he was watching you, because you could feel his fist on your back pressing into your spine.  And with one final burst of confidence you wet your own lips as you ran your thumb gently over his.  He visibly swallowed when your hand left his face, and you looked up into his eyes, smiling at him.  His eyes were narrow and a little dark, though, and you pressed your lips together, his look a little too intense for you at the moment.  “I mean, it’s a nice face,” you muttered, and while he didn’t smile, his eyes did blink and soften a little, and his hand uncurled and lay flat on your back again, so you decided to close your eyes and let him explore your back while you moved your hips closer to him, bringing your knees together.  You moved one of your feet down his leg, and the sensation made you hum.  He didn’t reciprocate or move his legs in response, so you wiggled your knee under his until your leg was sandwiched between his.

            “Hey,” Yoongi said, his voice barely audible, and your eyes flickered open to see his face, “do you want, _do you want to take this off_?”  You had gotten so used to his hand on your back already that you had forgotten about it for a moment, and his fingers were toying idly at your bra hooks.

            “Oh, sure,” you said, because there was no way you were going to sleep in it anyway, and his hand quickly undid the clasps before pushing it aside.  His hips scooted slightly closer to you as his hand traveled all the way up your back until it reached the nape of your neck.  “Well, hold on,” you said, untangling yourself from him and sitting up so you could properly take your bra off.  You slipped it out of your sleeve and threw it on the ground before lying back down, smiling at Yoongi’s smile.  “ _What_?”

            “ _Nothing,_ ” he muttered, and he drew you even closer this time and moved his leg slightly when you wrapped yours around him again, one of his hands still holding yours while the other one slunk under your shirt again and ghosted its way over your back.  You wanted to keep your eyes open, you really did, but when his fingers pressed on your shoulder muscles and started to rub them forcefully with his thumb, you pressed them tightly together and let out a little moan.

            “Okay?” Yoongi asked, his fingers not stopping, and you could hear a smile on his lips.

            “Yeah,” you breathed, your body shuddering slightly, “it—” you winced as his thumb pressed into a tight spot, “ _it feels good._ ”

            “ _Good,_ ” you heard him say, or you thought you heard him say, it was hard to tell at this point, and you had to remember to breathe.

            “Okay,” you finally said, a little embarrassed at how much your body at curled, and he pulled his hand out, smoothing your shirt down behind you.  But you didn’t have time to catch your breath as his hands were pulling yours apart, and he sat up partially as he rotated, pinning your wrists slightly above your shoulders, causing your body to lie flat against the bed again.  And before you had time to think his leg was moving over you until his knees were pressed into your hips and he was hovering over you.

            “ _Is this okay_?” he said, his voice so deep you felt like you were drowning.  All you could do was breathe, trying to slow your heartbeat down, and while he wasn’t heavy, the pressure on your wrists was a little too much.  And he watched your face, afraid he had taken it too far.  “Y/N?” he said, letting go of your wrists and placing his hands by your side.  You were just trying to get used to seeing him over you.  If he moved just an inch he’d practically be sitting on you, and all you could manage was a,

            “Huh?”

            “ _You with me_?” he said, smiling when he heard you respond, and you nodded.  Your arms felt dumb and useless where they were lying, so you wrapped them around his wrists, moving up and down his forearm a few times.  “ _Good,_ ” he said, looking down at you, “ _I’m probably going to touch your ear now, okay_?”

            “Spoilers,” you muttered, and he frowned slightly.

            “ _Don’t want you to freak out or punch me is all,_ ” he pouted, and you smile reassuringly at him.

            “ _I know.  Thank you._ ”  He nodded a few times before lowering down, and if you clung to his wrists to hard, he didn’t complain, just dropped his head down low enough until his hair tickled your neck, and you let out a shaky laugh, moving your head back and forth.  But he used the top of his head to press against your chin, and you tilted your head back, exposing your neck more, and he didn’t hesitate to press a kiss against your skin.  You let out a breath and let your eyes wander to the ceiling, and your arm dropped limply against the bed as he wiggled out of your grasp, his hand moving your shirt collar aside so he could kiss your shoulder, and he kissed your neck again, but higher this time, and his hand reached around to cup your head and turn it slightly, and you could feel his breath on your neck, and your hand gripped his wrist even harder, and you could feel him smile against your skin.  And you were so momentarily distracted when he said something, his words not registering despite being so close to your ear, that you almost didn’t feel his lips pressing gently against your earlobe.

            “ _What did you say_?” you said, your eyes a little hazy.

            “ _You’re doing so well,_ ” he said, his mouth still close to your neck.

            “What?” you said, turning your head toward him, which caused him to pull away and look down at you sheepishly.

            “Sorry, _I mean.   Is this too much?_ I want,” he was resting completely on his knees now, one of his hands running through his hair and the other one hanging loosely by his side.  “I want you to be comfortable.  _Are you_?”

            “I mean,” you said, scooting away from him a little and leaning back on your elbows.  “ _Yeah,_ but this is a bit much.  _Not too much._ But, it’s been awhile.  _It’s been a long time._   I,” you had to laugh, “I don’t get touched much, _I’m not used to it,_ besides hugs from friends and stuff, _you know_?”  Yoongi nodded and cocked his head at you.

            “ _How long has it been_?  _Since—_ ”

            “Oh, _six, seven years_?” you said casually.

            “ _Since him_?” Yoongi said, his face frowning.

            “Since anyone,” you shrugged.

            “ _Damn, that’s a long time._ ”

            “Ya,” you said, swatting at him, but you sighed, throwing your head back.  “ _I feel like I have to learn everything again,_ like _everything is a first._   _Can I tell you something_?”

            “ _Of course_ ,” Yoongi said softly.

            “This terrifies me,” you managed, your voice shaking a little.

            “Oh.”

            “ _Not you.  This._ Because it all feels new, but it’s not, and I’m afraid my worst experiences will mar and ruin any new, good experiences.  _I’m afraid of someone being impatient,_ of not wanting to wait for me.  You said once that _you’re impatient,_ and I don’t know if I can move fast enough for you.”

            “Hey,” Yoongi said, his voice firm, and you felt him move until he was at your side, looking down at you, and you tried to blink your eyes enough to shake away the tears that threatened to appear.  “I said waiting is hard.  _Waiting for something good to happen is hard.  Yes._ Yes.  _But sometimes the wait makes everything better.  Like a good wine._ ”

            “Did you just compare me to wine?” you said, scoffing dramatically.

            “Yes.  No.  _Please don’t worry.  We have plenty of time,_ ” he said, his hand coming up to stroke your face, and you pressed against it, closing your eyes again.

            “No, we don’t,” you wanted to say, because you could count the minutes until you left, but you didn’t say anything.

            “ _Want to sleep now_?” Yoongi said, his thumb brushing your cheek.  You nodded, and he let go until you had both positioned yourselves under the covers, and you laid there looking at each other for a few minutes, your ears finally registering the noise of everyone still talking in the living room, until his eyes closed.  And when they did, you smiled at him more than you had all night, and you let out a small squeak when his arm flung around your waist and pulled you closer to him.  You rolled to your side again and let him pull you into his chest, your feet intertwining at the ankle, and his other hand started to play with your hair, which immediately made you hum.  He chuckled slightly and nuzzled the back of your neck before placing a kiss below your hair.

            “Hey,” you said, when his head had seemed to still, “ _isn’t this what you were afraid of_?”

            “ _What_?” he said, his voice drowsy but firm.

            “Some girl, sneaking into bed with you.”

            “ _We’re not in my bed,_ ” he said, clearly smiling.

            “Technicalities,” you muttered.

            “Hey, can I tell you something?”

            “Anything.”

            “ _I thought you being here would be bad for us,_ ” he said, sighing into your back.  “ _But Tae and Jimin seem ecstatic to know you.  I mean, Jimin and J-Hope made that dance.  And Jungkook made a video for you.  And J-Hope and Mina.  You did that, I think.  And Jin has enjoyed having you here, even if he seems cold sometimes.  You’ve let him be himself, and he’s nothing if not a gentleman around ladies.  He probably needed the least practice out of all of us,_ ” Yoongi said, laughing, and you felt yourself curl into him more, your eyes burning.  “ _And you’ve helped Tae a lot, too, you know?  He’s so much more confident with his English, and that confidence just spreads to everything else.  And Namjoon.  He’s going to miss you a lot, I know, you two are such nerds._ ”  You laughed slightly, and you felt a tear roll down your cheek.  “ _And I._ Do you remember _that one day you came by the studio and I said I wanted to be alone_?”  You nodded. 

            “And _I didn’t,_ I didn’t leave you alone,” you muttered, sound apologetic.

            “I’m glad.  _I’m glad you didn’t.  Please don’t ever leave me alone,_ ” Yoongi said, and you definitely broke then, your only thought of when your plane was leaving, but he didn’t say anything as you silently cried, he just pulled you closer and held you tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You share your last day with the boys, and your last night with Yoongi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words, touchy touchy.
> 
> Are you ready? I'm not.

**Day 53**

            The heaviness you felt in your chest when you woke up was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.  One of regret for what could have been and a hopeless longing for what could be.  You wanted to call the airline and move your flight, cancel your flight, e-mail your boss that you quit, tell your mom you’d visit often, and stay.  And acknowledging that you wanted to run away from going home terrified you.

            You rolled over and looked at Yoongi, who barely shifted as you moved.  You thought of all the reasons why it wouldn’t, couldn’t work, because then maybe leaving would be easier.  He was way too good looking for you.  The way his thin lips were parted, the way his long fingers sprawled on top of the blanket, the way his small frame just looked so inviting.  He was too talented for you.  There was nothing you could do that would inspire or challenge him to be better.  He was too calm and patient.  You were an emotional roller-coaster.  He was too young for you.  Four years wouldn’t be a big deal if he was older and you were younger, but people would find it odd.  He lived in Korea, and you lived in the states, and the distance would be too hard.  And there was that minor issue of how famous he was.  He could have anyone in the world.  He should have anyone.  He should have anything and everything.  You were in no position to help raise him up as he deserved.  He lived in another world with a different language, culture, and values altogether.  He was just too…too.  Too good, too much.  There was no way he could actually mean everything he had said.

            But.  If he had said them.

            “If Yoongi said it, then he means it.  He only speaks when he really wants to, and he always says what he means,” Mina had said.

            He had said “I like you,” he had repeated “I want you” over and over again, had said “she’s all mine,” had asked you to stay.

“ _If you want someone, you have someone._ ”

            “Yoongi, I want you to know something,” you said suddenly, pulling at his shirt.  His eyelashes barely fluttered.  “Yoongi.”  He groaned, shifting slightly.  “ _I need to say something._ ”

            “ _What’s wrong?_ ” he mumbled.  You hadn’t realized your voice sounded so panicked, and you tried to calm down.

            “Nothing.  _Listen._   When I’m mad or scared, I’m mean to the people I love.  It’s stupid, but I know why I do it.  I do it because I expect them to love me back, but I don’t want them to.  I want to prove to myself that I don’t deserve their love.  I push people away when I want them to be close to me.  I don’t initiate things because I want to prove to myself that the person doesn’t care when they don’t contact me.  I yell at my mom when I’m feeling insecure.  I lash out at others when I feel out of control.  I run away when I actually want to stay.  Isn’t that messed up?”

            “ _So much English,_ ” he muttered again.  “ _What time is it_?”

            “Yoongi,” you said, your voice still slightly desperate as you pulled at him.  His eyes finally opened slightly and blinked several times until your face came into focus.  “ _Did you hear me?  I’m so backwards.  I’m messed up.  I, when I love, I run.  I fight myself.  I don’t want to be happy, I don’t deserve it.  I push and run when I want to stay and be held.  Do you understand_?” you said, sighing, having taken forever and stuttered over syllable after syllable.

            “ _I heard you,_ ” Yoongi said softly.  “ _And I know.  I’ve known.  Or had guessed.  I’m glad to know._ Don’t worry.  I’m stubborn.  _I won’t go anywhere._ ”

            “ _Can you promise me something_?” you said, but Yoongi stiffened at the word.

            “ _I don’t do promises,_ ” he said.

            “What?  _Really_?  Why?”

            “I mean,” he said, sighing and rolling onto his back, “ _they set up expectations.  If I say I will do something, you expect me to.  Then, if I don’t, I’ve disappointed you._ ”

            “How does that work?” you said.  “I mean, _with work, you make no promises_?”

            “No, I do, _I promise Namjoon things a lot, or our managers, or the company.  I promise the song will be done, I promise I’ll behave, I promise I’ll only speak about such and such at the interview.  I make a lot of promises.  But_ I don’t want to.  Not to you.”

            “Oh,” you said, trying to hear how kind he was trying to be, but part of you was still a little hurt.

            “What do you want?” he said, though, lacing his fingers behind his head and looking over at you.

            “Oh, _no, it’s okay,_ ” you muttered, and he sighed.

            “Please don’t do that.”

            “Hm?  Oh.  Yeah, bad habit,” you said.  “I just, _will you talk to me after I leave_?”

            “Of course,” Yoongi said without blinking.

            “You’ll call me?”

            “Call, text, write, _send a carrier pigeon, or one of Jin’s sugar gliders.  Unless you say not to, yeah, I’ll contact you.  Though I prefer phone calls._ ”

            “Oh,” you said lamely.  You hated phone calls.  It always felt like the person was in the room, but you were both blindfolded, unable to see the other person’s body language, and body language probably actually conveyed 80% of what someone was trying to say.  But you loved Yoongi’s voice, and the thought of him actually calling you on the phone made your heart pound.

            “Is that what you want?”

            “Yeah,” you mumbled, placing your head halfway on his chest, your arm wrapped around his stomach.

            “ _Can I go back to sleep now?_ ” he said, his hand coming down to rest on your head.

            “No,” you said with a grin.  “We have things to do.”

            “What?  What?” he almost groaned.

            “ _I don’t know,_ but I leave in—” Yoongi’s other hand came down to tickle your side and you absolutely freaked out, yelling and flailing your leg until it kicked his.

            “Ow, fuck,” he said, pulling away from you.

            “That’s what you get,” you pouted, sitting up.

            “ _What do you want to do today_?” he said, sitting up as well and dramatically rubbing his leg.

            “I don’t care,” you shrugged, “just want to be.  _Be with everyone._ ”

            “Okay, well, _I should say, Namjoon has a party planned._ ”

            “What?”

            “Yeah, a surprise.  I mean, _not a huge deal, just the eight of us._   _And expect stuff._ ”

            “Stuff?”

            “ _Presents or something,_ ” Yoongi shrugged, yawning.

            “Oh,” you said excitedly, “cool!  Thanks for warning me.  Hey, Yoongi, are you ticklish?” you asked, leaning forward with your hands out.  You glanced up at him once as he watched you, and you hesitated, his steely look making you doubtful, but you tried anyway and tried tickling his side.  But he just sat there, his face serious, and you drew back and drew a breath.  “Wow, that’s creepy.”  He merely smirked and watched as you got out of bed and made for the bathroom.  You were a little relieved when he was still sitting there, running his hands through his hair, when you came back out.  When he saw you, he hopped up and made your bed even though you tried to stop him.  You watched as he smoothed out the blanket and fluffed up the pillows by the headboard.  Then, with a smile but without a word, he left, closing the door behind him.

 

            The rest of the morning and the afternoon was a whirlwind.  You knew you were trying to fit too much into too little time, and you barely stayed in place for more than few minutes, fliting between studio to studio and boy to boy, trying to make them laugh one last time and letting them make you laugh more than once.  J-Hope kept giving you hugs and finally got you to dance with just him, saying he needed to practice for Mina.  He knew you would help, then, and you did, even though you didn’t feel like much help as his face kept going from too serious to too ridiculous in a matter of seconds, which only caused you to laugh and become a puddle of useless limbs.  Still, he made you feel like you had done some good, and therefore you felt lighter.  Jimin and Tae took to you to the top of the building, where you laid on the grass on a towel and squinted under the sun while pointing out cloud shapes.  And Jimin insisted on more pictures, so you obliged and found yourself smiling so naturally you almost didn’t recognize yourself.  And you would have all napped up there on the grass if you hadn’t wanted to waste anytime and warned them they would get sunburned, so Tae and you ran to get icecream without telling any managers, and you laughed like maniacs when you came back with two bags full and started to distribute them around the building to the staff.  You took one to Jungkook, who barely teased you at all, even when you commented it was nice to see him with a shirt on, and he sang a little for you and showed you a video he was working on, his face beaming with pride the entire time.  You couldn’t resist patting him on the head, even though he clearly hated it, before heading to find Jin, who was with Namjoon in his studio.  You sat with the two of them, the air around them more relaxed, and listened to them talk about the upcoming concert and their travel concerns, and while Jin was still Jin, he had a certain calmness when he was talking to Namjoon that you hadn’t seen from him, and you wondered what other sides you hadn’t seen of him.  But then he talked of nothing but food, and that seemed more normal, and you tried to laugh at his jokes so he would feel good—even though he didn’t need anyone to laugh to still feel the need to tell jokes—but the language barrier was still a struggle.  He suggested working on learning Korean puns, and you, much to your chagrin, spent some time teaching him some American ones.  Which you immediately regretted, because now he seemed more powerful than ever. 

            But after a while he left you and Namjoon alone, and you relished the time to talk.  You listened to his concerns and encouraged him as best as you could, and you tried to be as honest with him as you could about how you were feeling.  He assured you you could text or call him whenever you wanted, and he would respond when he could.  And you promised you would, because Namjoon was someone you genuinely wanted to talk to and get to know and felt comfortable talking to now.  You realized his mannerisms made him extremely approachable, and he was probably one of the least judgmental people you had ever met, and before you left his studio you told him that.  Told him once again how impressed you were with him as a person and as a leader, and thanked him for letting you be the one who got to spend the summer with him.  He blushed slightly and gave you a reassuring smile and only thanked you in return.  So before it became a competition to see who could out-thank the other person, you left and hung out with Yoongi for awhile, eating lunch on the floor over his little table.  You smiled as he proudly explained another, yes, another, new song he was writing to you.  And you sat by him as he played the piano and let him guide your fingers over certain keys so you could play an impromptu duet, your heart melting a tiny bit with each downstroke.  And you sat on the couch, that stupid couch, in the dim lighting, and ran your fingers through his hair, laughing as he tried to act like he didn’t like it as his body betrayed him and his head lolled a bit.  And you just sat and listened to him, his voice low and serious as he played with your fingers.  But you finally had to pry yourself away, as you needed to go pack, and he reluctantly let you go.

 

            Tae had promised to help you pack earlier, which you had agreed to, even though you weren’t really sure how helpful he was going to be.  Sure enough, he sat on your bed next to your two suitcases with a camera, not helping at all except for when he made you laugh.

            “I brought this empty suitcase with me because I figured I’d head home with more stuff, but, I mean, look at all these clothes I got,” you said, showing him and the camera each article before you rolled it up and stuffed it in the bag.  They were just clothes, but you associated each of them with something from the summer; a run episode, a “date,” your trip to Busan, hiking up a mountain with Jisung, getting drunk with Mina, laughing with Jackson, cooking dinners, taking walks around the city at night.  Your hands started to move slower and slower with each item you fit in the bag, and Tae seemed to notice.  He put the camera down and looked at you.

            “You okay?” he said, because he had always asked that, always made sure you were okay, always wanted to help you be okay.

            “Yeah,” you mumbled.  “Happy and sad.  It’s a weird mixture.”

            “ _Like a tiger and a lion._ ”

            “Uh, yeah,” you said, laughing, “ligers are weird.”

            “Who decided?” Tae said, serious, “ _Who said, let’s put a tiger and a lion together?_ ”

            “ _I don’t know,_ ” you said, because you honestly didn’t, but Tae wasn’t asking to be serious, he just wanted to make you happy, and it worked as it always did.

            “Hey,” Tae said, as he snuggled with one of your pillows while you worked to fit your shoes in a bag, “will you help once you’re gone?”

            “Help with what?”

            “With English.”

            “Of course.  _Yeah.  Anything you need, okay_?” you said, because you seriously meant it, and Tae smiled because he seriously believed you.  The two of you went back to packing—well, you packed, he discussed the possibility of fitting into one of your suitcases—until you felt like you had done all you could before tomorrow morning.

            “Be sure to leave some room,” Tae told you, pointing to a small bare spot in your suitcase.

            “Oh, okay,” you said, trying not to sound surprised.  Who knows what Namjoon had planned for tonight.  You didn’t need anything material, you just wished there was a way to bottle up your happiness and put it safely in your bag.

 

            The evening came too quickly.  Everything was happening too quickly.  You were glad Jin made you cut onions, because they always made your eyes water, and you were grateful for the excuse to cry, plus he and Jimin babied you just a bit, giving you back hugs and rubbing your hands, and you let yourself be dramatic for a moment, knowing it was your last time to cook with and for them, and you just wanted to be consoled.  But your onion tears soon dried, and you were back to laughing with everyone as you all gathered one last time around the table.  And you didn’t care if any of the boys were bothered by how obvious you were about holding Yoongi’s hand.  After every bite you’d put your chopsticks down and grab his free hand until you wanted another bite.  Jimin, sitting across from you, seemed particularly tickled by the scene, and finally just started to feed you so you could hold onto Yoongi’s hand the whole time.  Yoongi may have rolled his eyes slightly at that, but he was smiling, too.  After dinner you all seemed to move slower, not just because you were full and even a glass of wine made you a little sluggish, but because everyone seemed to feel how precious the remaining minutes were, and soon you had all arranged yourself in the living room, your head in Yoongi’s lap and your feet draping over Tae’s.  Yoongi’s head was leaning back on the couch, his eyes closed, and he had that content and contemplative look on his face that you had come to recognize.  The night was loud but peaceful.  Everyone had something to say, and often while someone else was talking.  Someone teased Jimin—it was Jungkook, Jungkook teased him—about being late the first day you had arrived, and he huffed, throwing a finger at Yoongi,

            “Okay, but, _I called that, didn’t I?_ ”  Yoongi must have instinctively known Jimin was talking about him, because one of his eyes opened lazily.

            “Yeah, _good job.  But I don’t deserve her.  She needs someone happier than me,_ ” he said seriously, and you reached up to poke his chest. 

            “Uh, hi, I’m right here.”

            “ _I don’t know,_ ” Tae said, his hands on your knee, “ _you look pretty happy, Hyung._ ”

            “ _Yeah, we all know you’re a sap,_ ” J-Hope said.

            “Hi, _hello_ ,” you whined, trying to reach Yoongi’s face to poke, but he moved it to the side.

            “ _Happiness is overrated, anyway,_ ” Namjoon said, “ _it’s fleeting and usually looks different for everyone.  Maybe Y/N is happy when she’s with you, even if she doesn’t look it._ ”

            “Uh, am I invisible?” you muttered, rolling over so you didn’t have to look up at Yoongi anymore.  His hand came down to your head and his fingers ran through your hair, though, and you almost elbowed him for being so rude.

            “ _Besides, she said she need someone who can be serious, too, and you’re always serious,_ ” Jungkook said.

            “ _Well, almost always,_ ” Jimin said, laughing.  You huffed, and Yoongi’s fingers only increased their pressure on your scalp. 

            “ _I mean, you have talked to her, haven’t you Yoongi?  About whether you make her happy_?” Jin said.

            “ _Why are you doing this_?” you groaned, but you heard Yoongi chuckle lightly, and his hand moved to your shoulder to turn you slightly back towards him.  His face looked amused, but there was also a touch of concern on his face, almost as if he was afraid to ask.

            “Do I, Y/N?  Make you happy?” he said, and you couldn’t help but tease him.

            “Oh, are you talking to me?”  He actually pouted, and you laughed.  “Yeah, _yeah, you do._   It’s annoying and confusing how much you do,” you muttered, rolling back over.  He seemed content for the moment to just run his fingers back through your hair.

            “ _Okay, Jungkookie, let’s see that video!_ ” J-Hope said, and your eyebrows raised.  Jungkook immediately hopped up and went to fiddle with the TV, and you started to get nervous at how eager he was.  When he seemed ready, he stood in front of the TV like he was about to give a presentation, his hands moving as he talked.

            “So, Y/N, _I hope you don’t mind, I’m going to release this tonight.  It turned out great._ It’s great.  You’re great.”

            “Pft, stop,” you said playfully, but part of you wanted him to really stop, because you were already embarrassed. 

            “ _Jimin, Tae, Jin, you guys were okay,_ ” Jungkook said, and there were loud protests around the room, “ _so I hope you all enjoy._ ”  And he stepped out of the way, turned off the lights, and pushed play.  You found yourself sitting up and leaning against Yoongi, his arm around your waist, as you watched.  You didn’t want to watch because you were in it, you wanted to watch because the boys were, and you wanted to see how well Jungkook had done.  And he really had outdone himself.  There was a slight blue tint to the whole video, which made it look hazy almost, and you reveled again at the boys’ acting and the way Jungkook had captured the beauty of the simplicity but haunting choreography.  And the song, well, the song always made you cry, so you weren’t surprised at the way your eyes watered.  And you weren’t surprised by how loud the boys cheered, especially J-Hope, when the video ended.  Jungkook was positively beaming for a few seconds before he tried to just play it cool as he plopped back down on the ground.

            “ _Wow,_ ” Namjoon said, “ _Jin did so well at dancing!_ ”

            “Ya!” Jin yelled, trying to swat Namjoon, but Jungkook beat him to it.

            “Yeah, yeah, _you did great, too, Jungkook,_ ” Namjoon laughed.  Tae noticed you the moment the lights came back on and leaned toward you a little.

            “You okay?”

            “Yeah,” you said, sniffling a little, “happy and sad.”  And Yoongi tightened his grip around you, so you leaned back and put your head on his shoulder.

            “Okay, okay,” J-Hope said again, hopping up again and rummaging around for something in the corner.  “Presents!”

            “Oh no,” you whispered, and thankfully only Yoongi seemed to hear you, but you put a smile on your face.  Presents always seemed to come with the expectation that you return them in kind, and giving the boys anything seemed impossible.  What do you get someone who already has everything or has the capability of getting anything he wants?  But gifts could be a token of love and gratitude, so you waited patiently for J-Hope to bring you a small bag.

            “Thank you,” you muttered, looking around to see everyone staring at you before you opened it.  Inside was a jar filled with various slips of paper as well as a simple black frame with a picture in it.  You looked at that first, and heard J-Hope say,

            “From Mina.”  It was a candid shot of the two of you the last time she had done your hair and makeup before some filming.  Someone—probably Jisung, bless him—had taken it without you knowing, and you and Mina’s faces were both bright and smiley.  You smiled while pretending to cry once, holding it against your chest.

            “ _It’s perfect,_ ” you said.  J-Hope smiled widely and pointed at the jar.  You took it out of the bag and inspected it carefully, wondering what it was.

            “The boys and I, Mina, Jisung, even Seijin, and practically all of the staff wrote you something,” Namjoon explained.

            “What?” you said, so shocked you almost dropped the jar, but you only rotated it more and more, seeing Hangul and English on the papers.  “That’s,” you stuttered, but you couldn’t find the right words.

            “When you get sad,” J-Hope said, “read one.”

            “I.  _I will,_ ” you managed, “ _Thank you._ ”  He gave you a big thumbs-up and went back to his spot, only to be replaced by Jin.  “Oh,” you said, as he handed you another bag.  You laughed when you brought out another jar, this one a bit larger and filled with kimchi.

            “ _I know you can’t find the good kind back home,_ ” he fussed, sounding like it was a crime that every store in Texas didn’t sell fermented cabbage, “ _but this is authentic, my mom made it._ ”

            “ _What?  Did she make us some, too_?” Tae said, almost leaping off of the couch.

            “Yeah, yeah, _we have plenty,_ ” Jin said, waving Tae off.  “ _And those are recipes,_ ” Jin continued as you opened up a wooden box engraved with a tiger.  You thumbed through the papers carefully, noticing that each was handwritten, clearly by Jin, some of them with little crude drawings of vegetables or cooking utensils.  You looked up at Jin, who looked a little pouty, possibly reluctant, like he was passing off some sacred treasures to you, and you had to laugh.

            “ _Thank you._ Now I can cook properly when you all come visit,” you heard yourself say, even if it just seemed more of a polite thing to say than a prophetic thing to say, and Jin smiled before going back to his seat.  Tae wiggled a bit from his seat, and you looked over at him, putting the kimchi and recipes back in their bag.

            “I got excited.  Your present was the jacket,” he said sadly.

            “Oh, _I love that jacket!  Thank you, really, it’s enough_.”  He pressed his lips together and nodded as you smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his knee for a moment.

            “Yeah, and I made the movie.  And those passes,” Jungkook said from the floor.

            “ _Great gifts,_ ” you told him.

            “ _I got you this,_ ” Namjoon said, lumbering over with a book.  “I, uh, didn’t have time to wrap it.”  You laughed and took it from him, recognizing it immediately.

            “But, I got this for you in Busan,” you said, confused.  “Are you re-gifting it?  Should I be offended?”

            “Oh, no,” Namjoon said immediately, opening up the front cover.  “I wanted to read it first so I could make notes in it and make sure you could read it.  It may be a bit hard, but I think you can.”

            “Oh, okay,” you said, smiling, pleased that he believed you could read a book in Korean that looked way above your level.

            “And, then, well, I thought,” Namjoon stuttered, looking suddenly shy, “you could take notes and send it back to me.”

            “So, it’s not mine?” you teased, laughing.

            “No, I,” Namjoon sighed, raking his hands through his hair.  “This is stupid.”

            “No, no, tell me,” you said, sitting up and leaning toward him, Yoongi’s hand slipping from your side a bit.  You tried to give Namjoon one of his reassuring smiles.

            “I thought,” Namjoon explained, “we could exchange books with notes.  You could pick the next one and send it to me, and then I’d send it back.  If that makes sense.”

            “ _What_?  That’s a genius idea!” you almost shrieked.  “I love it!  Okay, I get it, I get it, yeah, I’ll totally write in this book and send it back to you.  It might take me forever, so maybe I’ll start a book in English to send to you, too, okay?  Does it need to be philosophy?  Fiction?”

            “Anything you want,” Namjoon said, finally smiling, his eyes squinting shut and his dimples on full display.

            “ _So cool!  Thank you so much!_ ”  You looked down at the book, really excited even if a tiny bit nervous, and Yoongi shifted behind you.

            “Okay, well, _I didn’t know what to get you,_ ” Jimin said, clearing his throat.  You looked over at him, softened by how concerned his face looked.

            “ _I don’t need anything, Jimin, honestly,_ ” you tried to assure him.  “ _I love your notes and flowers and_ I appreciate all of your help.  I mean, _look at that dance!_ ”

            “ _Okay, good, because I did,_ I did write you a note,” he said, shuffling forward on his knees to you, “and, well, I know _you don’t wear rings really, so this may be a bad gift, but_ —”

            “Jimin, it’s fine, _it’s great,_ ” you said, taking the small package from him, revealing a silver ring that looked like two branches intertwining.

            “ _I just thought,_ ” Jimin mumbled, “ _it might match your bracelet, the one with the trees._ ”  Your mouth was open as you rotated the ring, but no sound seemed to be coming out.

            “Shit,” you finally mumbled, and Jimin finally grinned, “don’t ever tell me how expensive this way.  It’s gorgeous.  _It’s really pretty._ ”

            “ _So are you,_ ” Jimin said, and Yoongi playfully kicked him away, but Jimin hugged your legs for a moment until you patted his head, causing him to move away.  “ _Your turn, Yoongi,_ ” he said when he was far enough away to clearly not get hit.  Yoongi had gotten pretty still behind you, and you rotated, bringing your legs up onto the couch so you could look at him.

            “ _Here,_ ” he said, bringing out a small jewelry box from his pocket and handing it to you.  Before you opened it, you look at him, though.

            “Hey, _you know_ I’m not big on presents.  _You didn’t have to.  But I’ll love it, anyway._ ”  When he gave you a few small nods, you opened the box.

            “ _It’s made from a piano wire,_ ” he said, leaning over to point to the small bracelet.  Once he said that, it made sense to you, and you immediately put it on, running your fingers over the the small groves.

            “ _It’s not broken,_ ” you barely whispered, and Yoongi nodded again, giving you a shy smile.  You slunk back into the couch, your heart full.  It didn’t matter if you couldn’t bottle up all of the happiness you were feeling.  A jar of kimchi seemed close enough.

 

            You ended the night together with pictures, your arms slung around each other and your faces pressed against one another, and hugs, lots and lots of hugs.  Individual and group hugs, some of them while rotating in a circle and bouncing as if you were about to gleefully summon the devil, and the boys even hugged each other, which just made you laugh.  Every other word seemed to be one of gratitude, and before you started crying you cited an early morning and excused yourself.  Yoongi followed you a few feet behind you and sat on your bed while you finished packing, glad now you did still have room left in your checked bag for kimchi, of all things.

            “I wonder how many people fly home with kimchi in their bags,” you said to yourself, amused at the site.  Apart from your toiletries, you were done, so with a sigh you zipped up your bags and moved them off of your bed.  “Well,” you said, your hands on your hips.

            “Well,” Yoongi said.  “Good summer?”

            “Yeah.  _I learned a lot._   _Had fun._ Met some great people.”  Yoongi hummed in response as you took a deep breath.

            “Want me to help, _help you stay up so you can sleep on the plane_?”

            “ _No, I hate sleeping on planes,_ ” you muttered, climbing onto the bed beside him.  “ _I need to sleep here._ ”

            “Want me to leave?”

            “ _No,_ ” you said weakly.

            “ _The music video looked really good._ ”

            “Yeah, _Jungkook did a great job._ ”

            “Yeah,” Yoongi mused, “you too.”  You picked at the blanket instead of answering.  “ _Gorgeous.  You’re beautiful._ ”

            “Ya,” you said lightly, looking away.

            “Listen to me,” Yoongi said, his voice firm.  “Look at me.”  You dragged your eyes to him.  “ _I’m telling you because it’s the truth, and you need to believe it.  I’m going to tell you everything you’re afraid to hear.  I’ll whisper in your ear so you’ll hear them all night.  And one day you’ll believe them._ ”

            “Okay,” you shuddered, finding it hard to keep eye contact with him, his stare was so intense, “ _you don’t have to_ , to do all that right now.  I thought, _I thought you said,_ you said you’ll talk to me even after I leave.  You can tell me later.”

            “I will.  _I’ll tell you every day,_ ” he said, his voice low, and this time you had to look away, because you believed him, but that part of you that didn’t want to was breaking a little, and you really, really didn’t want to cry.  “Hey, come here.”  He had spread his legs a little, and you were reminded of the photoshoot on the bed, only this time instead of being behind him he pulled you toward him and moved your calves until your legs were almost wrapped around him, and he brought his in until his heels pressed against your bottom. “ _Is this okay_?”  You nodded as he placed his hands on your thighs, but you kept yours clasped in the small space between you.  “You know, one day, _this will be easy.  It will be natural.  You’ll be more comfortable._ ”

            “Yeah?” you said, your voice a little shaky.  He closed his eyes and nodded his head a few times like he always did.

            “ _Yep, you’ll want to touch me all the time.  I’ll actually have to tell you to stop._ ”  You started to laugh at the idea, but you saw how serious his face was, and you thought of all the times he had said he wanted something or something was going to happen and then it did, and the laugh died on your lips.

            “I can’t imagine that,” you thought, but apparently the words came spilling out of your mouth.

            “ _Can’t picture it?  It’s addicting.  I’m addicted to a lot of things.  Work, winning._ ”  His hands were running up and down your thighs, and every time his hands hit your hip you felt like you were leaning closer to him.  “ _Making people happy.  Apparently I’m already addicted to touching you._ ”

            “God, Yoongi,” you breathed, and his hands stilled.

            “ _Too much_?” he grimaced.

            “ _No, just, I, I don’t know,_ ” you spluttered, and he smiled, his fingers resuming their journey.

            “ _Do you like this_?”  You watched his hands for a moment, and you knew he was watching you watch them, and your leg muscles tightened for a moment.  You let out a weak,

            “Yeah,” feeling highly embarrassed.

            “You’ll like it, too, _you’ll like touching me, too,_ ” he said simply, and you swallowed.  “ _When you’re ready, I’m here._ ”  But you sat and waited, and he was as patient as a saint, pressing his thumbs idly along your thighs, running his fingers up and down your leg.  It was when he grabbed your knees that you looked up at him and took a deep breath, clenching your fists.  “Hey, _is this okay_?” he asked gently when he saw you stir.  You nodded before licking your lips and unwrapping your fingers from each other.  You stretched each finger and then all of your knuckles at once, and Yoongi laughed.  “ _Don’t hurt me, okay_?” You smiled slightly before nodding once and putting your hands on his waist.  You padded the front of his stomach a little and his back, frowning.

            “ _You’re so skinny,_ ” you muttered, and Yoongi laughed.  “There’s, like, nothing to hold on to, here.”

            “ _Sorry,_ ” he laughed, and you smiled but shook your head.  He continued to run his fingers up and down your leg as you wrapped your arms fully around him, linking you hands behind his back.  His hands came back to your thighs when you started to toy with the back of his shirt and said quietly,

            “ _Is this okay_?”

            “Yeah,” he mumbled with a tiny smile, and his hands reached around under your thighs as he dragged you closer.  You bit your lip as he gazed down at you, one of his hands firmly on your thigh while the other one slid up and down your back.  Your hands curled for a moment, so you moved them, brought them back to his waist and slowly placed one, then the other, under his shirt, feeling his smooth skin.  You looked down, catching a glimpse of his stomach before looking back at his face, and his eyes were narrowed a little.  He blinked and barely shook his head before bringing both of his hands to your face, one gently cupping it while the other one ran back and forth over the groove of your collarbone.  His eyes flickered between yours and your neck, and as he leaned forward your hands flew to his thighs, gripping tighter than you thought they would as he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.  You couldn’t stop the breath that escaped your lips, and his fingers tickled the hairs on the back of your neck as he kissed your collarbone.  One of his hands reached behind you and pulled against your lower back, bringing you even closer to him to where you were left with no space between your legs, and he breathed onto your neck.

            “ _Is this okay_?”  You nodded, his thumb tracing your jawline.  “ _God, Y/N, I want._ I want.”

            “ _What do you want?_ ” you said, steadying yourself.

            “ _I really want to kiss you,_ ” he said, his nose running all the way up your neck to your chin, and then his head pulled away so he could see your face.  Your entire body had frozen, and he knew it, he could feel your hands limply on his legs.  Only your eyes were moving as you blinked.  Finally, you opened your mouth and then shut it again.  Your brows furrowed, and Yoongi’s hand left your face to rest, palm up, on your leg.  He finally cleared his throat.  “ _Well_?”

            “ _Sorry.  I,_ ” you stuttered, your brain still trying to figure out what to say.  “ _I just.  There are two choices?  Uh, yes or no.  No,_ I leave tomorrow,” you said, and he pressed his lips together, “ _yes,_ I leave tomorrow.  _Yes, what happens happens.  No,_ there are consequences.  I leave tomorrow.  _No,_ I’ll, I’ll, like you said, I’ll get addicted.  I can’t just have one bite of cake.  I want the whole cake.  I can’t just have chip.  I want the whole fucking bag.  Plus, plus, _it’s against the rules._ ”  Yoongi’s face softened.

            “ _What are we going to do, send you home_?” he couldn’t help but laugh lightly, and you actually smiled, but it faded quickly. “ _Are you always like this_?”

            “ _What?   Thinking about food?  Or_ thinking of all the bad things that can happen?  _Yes._   _It’s not fun,_ it’s not a fun place up here in my brain,” you said, tapping your temple.  But Yoongi’s hand came up to move your fingers, and he brushed his hands through your hair once.

            “ _A beautiful, broken mess,_ ” he said.  Your breath hitched once, and you willed yourself not to cry.

            “ _Why am I like this_?” you said out loud, even though it was a question you often asked yourself.  “Anyone else would have just kissed you already.”  Yoongi actually shrugged.

            “You’re not anyone.  _You’re not anyone else._ ”  He paused and waited, and you looked down at your hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt.  “Is it always this hard?  _When you have to make a decision that will make you happy or bring you pleasure?  It is always so hard_?”

            “ _Yes,_ ” you said simply.  “I try to just not make a decision.  Which is a decision.  _You know.  I run away._ I’m surprised I haven’t left this room already.”  Yoongi’s arms wrapped around behind you, gripping you as if he was never going to let you run again, and he caressed your back for a moment.

            “ _What are you trying to run from_?”

            “ _I’m afraid,_ ” you whispered.  “ _Of getting hurt._ God, why am I so selfish?”

            “What?” Yoongi said, his head cocking.  “ _How?  Why do you say that_?”

            “Why can’t I just give you what I want?  _It will make you happy, so I should do it._ ”

            “Uh, no,” Yoongi said firmly, sitting up straight.  _I’m not just going to do something to you even if it makes me happy.  That wouldn’t make me happy.  Don’t you get that?_ I want.  _I want to do something with you._ With you.  _I said I want to kiss you, but I should’ve said I,_ I want us to kiss.”  You absolutely withered.  Crumpled.  Melted.  Leaned forward and pressed your head on his chest.  You had to make the decision.  You listened to the mingling of your breaths, and felt the way his chest rose, the way his hands held you, and you wanted nothing else but to be with him.  He was letting you be in control, so it was up to you if you wanted to act or not.

            So you did.

            You lifted your head up and looked up at him, and his hands continued to run up and down your back, and you brought your hands to his face, cupping both of his cheeks, and he smiled, just barely, because he knew what was going to happen before you did, and he let you guide his head down, closer and closer to your face until you closed your eyes and reached for him.  And it had been a long time since you had kissed anyone, years, and you wondered if you had forgotten how to, but your lips seemed to move naturally, and his, his met yours without hesitation.  Like everything else he did, they were gentle, soft, and it was the sweetest kiss you had ever had, but you couldn’t just have one, so you pressed against him again, and he hummed, the vibration of his lips making you tremble slightly, and you pulled away, one of your hands pressed again his chest, the other one grabbing his forearm. 

            “Okay?” he breathed, his eyes darting across your face.

            “Yeah,” you said, leaning forward again, and this time his hands found your face, and your fingers curled around his shirt, pulling him closer.  And all of your limbs seemed to go numb when he tugged gently at your bottom lip, and you opened wider.  And his hands moved to your head, his fingers knowing exactly what to do to make you shudder, and you moaned into his mouth before pulling away, pressing your forehead into his chest again.  He chuckled lightly as his fingers rubbed over your scalp, and your let go of his shirt to push yourself back off of him.  You sat there for a moment, your legs pressed against each other, your hands on each other, your chests rising and falling, your lips red, and you cursed under your breath.  Yoongi just smirked.

            “ _That’s what you’ve been missing,_ ” he said.

            “It’s what I will be missing,” you muttered, shutting him up by meeting his lips with your own again.  But then you pulled away again.  “ _I should really sleep._ ”  Yoongi scooted back, wincing a little at his leg that had gone to sleep, and let you scramble off.  You tried not to think about how he was watching you as you grabbed clothes and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  And you tried not to smile when you came back out to see him under your blanket.  “Shouldn’t you go wash your face and stuff?” you said as you walked to the bed.

            “ _Already did,_ ” he said proudly, and as you lifted up the blanket you saw the hair around his forehead was a little wet before snuggling close to him.

            And you really needed to sleep, you really wanted to, but you also wanted to hold him and kiss him, listen to him and talk to him, let his arms trace over you and move yours over his body.  So you did for what felt like hours, your body exhausted despite the adrenaline running through it.  The giddiness mixed with sadness made you nauseous, and you curled even tighter, wrapping your legs around Yoongi’s and pulling his chest against yours.  And you kissed him, a long, slow kiss, trying to use your lips to tell him everything you had been trying to say for days.

            I like you, too.

            I want you, too.

            Stay with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the time I got to the gifts I was just crying a lot.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT the last chapter.  
> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.  
> Warnings: Some bad words.

**Day 54**

            You were the one, as always, to run away.  You couldn’t stay.  You were glad Yoongi slept heavily as the morning rolled around.  You got up as slowly and quietly as possible, watching his face as you moved.  His lips slightly parted, a slight smile lingering on them.  He stirred briefly when your warmth left him, and you tucked the blankets closer around him until he stilled.   You made a sweep of the room after you got ready, making sure you hadn’t left anything behind, and you looked through the desk drawers.  You found the note that Jimin had left you the first day, _I’m excited!,_ and you placed it gently in your wallet.  You rolled your bags one at a time out of the room and looked back just once before closing the door, remembering all of the times Tae and you had worked on English and listened to music.  Leaving your bags in the kitchen for a moment, you poked your head in his door, and he was curled in his bed hugging a pillow.  You walked through the living room, remembering dancing and cuddling with Jimin and having deep discussions, reading with Namjoon, and laughing with J-Hope.  You walked down the hall and looked through Jimin and J-Hope’s already opened door.  The two of them were sprawled on their respective beds, Jimin’s breathing particularly heavy.  At Jin and Namjoon’s door, you pressed gently against it to find them both sleeping, as well, but when Jin stirred you turned away.  And lastly, at Jungkook’s door you paused, realizing you had never been in it, but his door was open, and you saw him lying on top of his bed, his shirt off, looking gentler than you had ever seen him.

            “Punk,” you muttered under your breath, thinking of everything he had done for you—the music video, the song, the camera for Jisung, the constant annoying teasing.  You couldn’t help but smile as you closed his door.

            In the kitchen you ran your hand over the island, the countless talks—filled with humor or tension—had over food and coffee refilling your ears.  You thought of Jin’s patience and pride in you as you cooked together, from when he first stole your food to last night’s meal.  Shaking your head a little, you ripped a page from your journal and scribbled a quick note, leaving it on the island.  With one more look around, you opened the dorm door, maneuvered your bags into the hallway, and left.

 

            You weren’t sure who to blame—no, thank—Jisung, Mina, Namjoon, J-Hope? when you saw Mina get out of the car and smile at you.  Even though it was early, and you barely felt awake, your body a little numb from everything happening, you laughed loudly and rushed to give her a big hug.

            “Just thought,” she said, her voice muffled as she pressed into your shoulder, “since I was the first person you saw…”

            “Thank you,” you mumbled, and you only pulled away to greet Jisung with an equally loving hug.  He smiled warmly at you before helping you with your bags.

            “ _They got heavier,_ ” he grumbled, and you couldn’t help but laugh.  You hopped in the back seat with Mina and talked the whole way to the airport.  You arrived too quickly, and you hugged them both harder, and mumbled pathetic words of thanks, but they just thanked you back and wished you well and promised to keep in touch.

            “Jisung,” you said before you went in, “ _there’s a gift, a present coming for you.  I hope you like it._ ”

            “Oh,” he said, clearly surprised, but he didn’t wave you off or try to refuse it, because he was Jisung, and he simply smiled.  “ _Thank you._ ”

            “And Mina,” you said, turning to her one last time, “good luck with J-Hope.  I’m a huge BTS fan, but if he hurts you in any way…”  Mina laughed, cutting you off with another hug.

            “Got it,” she said, smiling sweetly.  You shouldered your backpack and took a deep breath, giving them one final nod before wheeling your bags inside.

            You looked back once, before the sliding doors closed, and they were both still standing there on the sidewalk, giving you a small wave.

 

            No one ever seemed to call you until you were in a situation where your phone was supposed to be on silent or turned off, so of course Yoongi called right before your plane took off.  You looked at the caller ID, hesitating for a moment before you swiped to answer.

            “Hello?” you said, as if you didn’t know who was calling.

            “ _Don’t do that again,_ ” you heard, Yoongi’s voice drowsy.

            “ _Do what_?”

            “ _Leave without saying anything,_ ” he said, using your own words against you.

            “I,” you started, looking around frantically.  The stewardess was headed down the aisle.  The seemingly nice looking elderly lady a row behind you and across the aisle was giving you a nasty look.  “ _I’m sorry,_ ” you whispered, tears already forming in your eyes.   “I’m not.   _I’m not running forever, for good._ ”

            “Yeah?”

            “ _I want to stay.  God,_ Yoongi, I want to.  _But I have a job.  My family.  I can’t just._ ”

            “It’s okay,” he said, his voice calm.  “We have plenty of time.  We’ll go slow.”  You felt like an idiot, tears running down your face as you nodded, your mouth seemingly broken.  Someone cleared their throat—probably that mean looking old lady—and you snapped back to reality.  You were on a plane crying around a bunch of strangers.

            “Yoongi, ah, _I have to go.  The plane._ ”  He hummed.

            “ _See you later, Y/N.  I’ll be here waiting._ ”  It wasn’t really goodbye.  It wasn’t really an end.  It was a really Yoong-thing to say, and you mumbled something in return as you hung up.

            You couldn’t help but smile as the stewardess offered you a hot towel.  What was the point of them?  Were you supposed to wipe your hands with them?  Cover your face in a last attempt to calm yourself down?  Yes, apparently that is what they must be for.  You took pride—probably too much pride—in usually controlling when and where you cried.  You rarely did it in public, certainly, and you had never sat in first class on a flight that took practically an entire day, but there you were, sniffling as the stewardess handed the towel to you, and then straight up sobbing as you put it on your face, curling away toward the window, trying not to pay attention to the man sitting across the aisle who was clearly staring at you.  To her credit, the stewardess left to finish passing out the towels before she came back.

            “Ma’am,” she said gently, “can I get you anything?”  You peeled the towel off and gave her a small smile.

            “Do you know how many days it takes to fall in love?” you said, and she smiled sweetly as you but of course shook her head.  “Fifty-four days.  No more.  I’m sorry,” you muttered, handing the towel back to her, “this is probably a first for you.”

            “Happens more than you’d think,” she said.  “Let me know if you need anything.”

            “Thank you,” you said, drying your eyes.  You knew what you needed, but there was nothing she could do about it.

 

            The plane ride was long.  There was really no way to prep for how long it was.  You tried to read the book Namjoon had given you, but the process was painfully slow, so when you were frustrated you watched a movie and even made small talk with the businessman across from you during meal time.  You slept some, too, even though it seemed to make everything worse, but the lull of the air conditioner on the plane always seemed to knock you out.

            And somehow, despite how many hours you sat there, it was over too quickly, and you tried not to bump into anyone on your incoherent, wobbly legs as you excited the plane.  And you stood waiting for your bags, texting your mom who said she was waiting for you outside, and your heart beat a little faster.  You rushed to find her and held her close as you hugged, and she actually cried a little, which surprised you, because your mom never cried.  But you chatted about everything immediately and loaded your bags and you got into the back seat, only to have your dog leap into your lap, panting and licking your face a thousand times.  You lost it, then, and held her, crying the whole way home.

 

            In Korea, already so far away even though it still felt so close, Namjoon shuffled into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.  When he was awake to recognize the world, he saw your note on the island, and he smiled.

_I’m not a fan of goodbyes, because they’re endings.  I’ll see you at a show.  I’ll be the loud girl in the crowd._ –Y/N

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just. What a journey.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adjusting to life apart from the boys proves to be impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words are those spoken in Korean.
> 
> I put notes at the end because there were too many for the note section, ha.

**Day 55**

            Adjusting after a long trip is always difficult.  You forgot you even knew how to drive.  You hated how you had to drive everywhere.  Everything was so spread out, and while you had missed the space some, it all seemed excessive.  Your house was too quiet, even with your roommate and your dog.  And the heat was almost unbearable.  And the food.  Had everything always been this processed and salty and disgusting?

            And suddenly so many people wanted to see you.  You wanted to see them, too, of course.  After two months, you wanted to catch up with all of your friends, and you fit several in each day, trying to feel the space seven boys had been filling for months.  But most of their questions, even your friends who didn’t really know BTS, were about the boys, and you found yourself being vague, avoiding most of them, or just dodging answering fully at all.  It annoyed them, you could tell, and even though the summer was over, you felt obligated to not say much.  You knew whatever you said could be taken the wrong way or end up in the wrong hands, so you tried to just stick to your experiences in Korean, the places you went, the things you ate, the pictures you took of trees and flowers and mountains.  Your true friends understood, though, and didn’t push you for information, just congratulated you and praised you.

            Jungkook’s video received amazing reviews, and while some people speculated it was you, no one could tell for sure.  It’s a gorgeous video, really, and you watched the Run episode that had aired with English subtitles and smile, ignoring all of the negative comments.  You put your accounts on private and turn off the option to leave comments, not replying to the few people who have tracked you down already and sent you private messages, whether nasty or purely inquisitive.

            Adjusting to not seeing the boys every day is even harder.  And when Yoongi calls, it takes you along to adjust to hearing his voice over the phone, and even longer to adjust to him calling you every day after.

            The thing about adjusting is you usually change your position, move a little, and the unpleasant feeling goes away.  But now, no matter how much you adjusted, nothing felt right.

            Adjusting was impossible.

 

**Day 56**

            The second Run episode is posted, of you and the boys at the nursery, and as you had expected, ARMY nearly dies from all of the cuteness.  Your heart feels warm as you smile, remembering the day, and you can’t help but laugh at all of the gifs that pop up.  You should have expected it, because you knew how ARMY was, but you hadn’t prepared yourself for finding gifs of you.  But there they were.  Some post on some account, a gif of you laughing, with the words “The way she smiles” followed by two heart-eye emojis.  You about fell out of your chair.  No, there was no way you were ever going to adjust to finding gifs of yourself on the internet.

 

**Day 58**

        “Miss Y/L/N?  There were some flowers delivered to you.  They’re here at the front office.”

        Flowers?  You groaned with your chair that you pushed away from your desk to make the trip across campus.  You jet-lag wasn’t as bad as you were afraid it would be, and you were glad to be back at work, but your feet still dragged slightly.  When you opened the door to the office, the receptionist eyed you and smiled, and you knew what she was going to say before she even said it.

         “Soooo, who’s your secret admirer?”  You gave her a forced smile back as you admired the bouquet.  It was too big, it was too extra.  It was too much.  But your heart swelled anyway, and your smile became a real one as you took off the card.

_Have a great school year!_ You’re a great teacher!--Jimin

          You opted for not answering the receptionist, just thanking her and ignoring the perked eyebrows of the accountant peeking out of her doorway.  The smell of the flowers as you held them to your chest on your back to your office surrounded you, and your footsteps had a spring in them.  You would only smile whenever anyone asked who they were from, and everyone asked, so by the end of the day your face hurt from smiling so much, but you didn’t care.

 

**Day 61**

           Out of habit, you texted Jin to ask if he needed on your way to the store.  You forgot about it until hours later, way after you’ve returned with your groceries, when he sent you an entire list of necessities.  On the bottom of the list was “One Y/N.  Please send ASAP.”  You promptly laughed and found a ribbon to wrap around your arm.  Taking a sharpie, you wrote his name next to it and took a picture.  You sent it to him with a text that read “Hope this arrives safely.”  He sent a hundred :)’s back while you had one on your face.

 

**Day 63**

            He usually called in your evenings when he’s up earlier than he would like or happily eating lunch, but today he called during your lunch hour, because the third Run episode was posted two hours ago, and he knows.  And you were glad you didn’t have a class right after lunch because you could tell he needed to talk.  At first you thought he was just doing it to distract you, to tell you as he did every day how nothing anyone said mattered, but his tone was slightly off that day, and you worried, just slightly, but a little worry for you was a heap of worry for something else.  You stalled as long as possible, and when he didn’t bring it up, you finally asked,

            “Yoongi, _what’s wrong_?”  He sucked in his breath and then hummed.  He does this when he’s thinking.  He knows you can’t see him, so he always makes a little noise so you know he hasn’t turned his attention elsewhere.  Sometimes it made you laugh, because the noises could get really obnoxious or go on for a long time if he was thinking hard, but you waited patiently.

            “ _I know you’re strong enough,_ ” he said, and the comment seemed so out of the blue you waited for him to explain further.  “ _I think you can handle it._ ”

            “ _Handle what?_ ”

            “The comments.  _The hate._ Y/N, I know you can.  But, _I never asked.  And it’s eating me up.  It bothers Namjoon and Jimin so much.  And Tae.  Shoot, it bothers us all._ ”

            “Yoongi,” you sighed, wishing you were just sitting by him, “it’s okay.  _What’s bothering you_?  _What didn’t you ask_?”

            “ _If you wanted this.  We never asked.  We invited you in without thinking about how people would treat you after.  And you left, or, we let you leave without, I don’t know, training you?  No one should have to deal with this._ ”

            “Yoongi,” you said soothingly, his voice strained.  “it’s okay.  _Thank you for believing in me.  But I’m not._ I’m not strong enough.”  He almost hissed.  “Not by myself.  But _I’m not alone, right?  You’ve got me, right_?”

            “Yeah,” he said after a few breaths.  “I got you.”

            And you almost felt like he was holding you.

            You were strong.  You listened to Yoongi’s encouragement and believed that what was said by a few crazy fans didn’t ultimately matter.  But adjusting to hearing such things, possibly even on a daily basis, wasn’t going to be easy.  You would never get used to it.  Adjusting to accepting hate was something you could just never, ever do.

 

**Day 65**

            You hadn’t heard from Jungkook since you left.  He didn’t even respond to the hilarious meme you sent a couple of days ago.  You weren’t surprised or hurt.  He was one of those people who thrived on talking face-to-face, because then he could see the way someone’s face twisted as he teased them.  He was that kind of person.  So you were a little surprised, but also not, because it was Jungkook after all, when he sent you a text out of the blue.

            “So Jisung has a sister.”  It wasn’t a question, so you assumed Jisung had told him or he had met her.  And you were so excited he had texted you at all, you couldn’t help but immediately tease him, wondering why in the world he was texting you in the first place.

            “Yes,” you sent back, “and I bet you have a crush.”

            “Yep,” he actually sent, and you rolled around on your bed, laughing hysterically.  Trying to collect yourself, you sat up and grasped your phone, reading and re-reading what he had said.

            “Shit,” you muttered to yourself before texting him back an obnoxious message.  “AW JUNGKOOKIE she’s really pretty and talented I hear.  _You met her?  Are you talking?_ ”

            “ _Met her.  Not talking._ ”

            “Okay, _bye,_ don’t text me until after you’ve talked to her.  _Talk to her first.  Text me later.  Bye, bye._ ”  Knowing him, you wondered for a moment if he was kidding, or if he was going to chicken out, but your phone didn’t buzz anymore, and you sighed back into your bed, a huge grin on your face.

 

**Day 66**

            If nothing else, Jungkook was competitive, and he must have taken your suggestion as a challenge.  You heard from him the next day, because the little shit clearly wanted to win whatever competition you had apparently greated for him, but, typical of his super talkative behavior, he only sent “Hi” and refused to answer any questions about what had happened.

 

**Day 70**

            Of course, many fans went a little psychotic after the fourth Run episode aired.  Seeing you on “dates” with the boys really was, as you had expected, too much for some people.  Some just thought it was just cute.  Some started immediately shipping you with the different boys.  By the end of the day, you had been sent three different videos about who people shipped you with, and they honestly made you laugh hysterically.  The one putting you and Jungkook together simply based on when he put his hand over your mouth while you were bowling before he quickly wrapped up the filming made you laugh so much you sent the link to him.  It only took a couple of hours for him to send you a different one back, and before your night was over, him, Jimin, and Tae were facetiming you, laughing at different videos you could find.  At one point Jimin had disappeared from the screen he was laughing so hard, literally rolling around on the floor, before he shot up, his eyes dripping tears but completely serious.

            “ _Does Yoongi know?  Is there a Yoongi one_?”  You didn’t know if he knew.  If he didn’t, he was bound to soon the way the three were smirking.  And yes, there were already videos of you two of compiled shots.  You watched one with the boys, and you found yourself noticing the way Yoongi had always looked at you.  It made you smile unconsciously, but you frowned at the boys when the video was over.

            “ _No telling Yoongi._ ”

            “Okay, Y/N,” Tae said, trying to look serious you knew he was full of shit.  “No problem.  We won’t.”

            Of course, later when Yoongi called, he wasn’t upset, but what he said did throw you for a loop before you started laughing again.

            “Okay, _but what’s our ship name_?”

**Day 73**

            Texting with Namjoon always seem to follow the same format, but you weren’t complaining.  You always discussed something personal, something about books, and something about English or grammar or lyrics.  The repetition wasn’t tiresome; in fact, you enjoyed the consistency.

            “1. That is not what I said, ever.  2. It’s not my fault you didn’t like the book.  At least now you know.  3.  No, it would be ‘everyone has his,’ to be grammatically correct.”

            “1. Oh, I guess it got lost in translation. 2. I am going to blame you, though, since you gave it to me. 3. That’s weird, but you’re the expert.”

            “1. We literally were both speaking English, so no. 2. Just give it back to me when you see me then? 3. Yes, listen to teacher.”

            “1. Well, I forgive you regardless. 2. But I marked in it. 3. That’s weird.”

            “1. I didn’t do anything wrong, ohmygod Namjoon. 2. Good.  An unmarked book is an unread book. 3. That’s me.”

            “1. Yeah, I’ll just ask Yoongi about it. 2. By that logic I have a lot of unread books. 3. It’s dead now.”

            “1. No! Gawd, I just said I like his rapping style better than yours, not that you’re bad.  Come on, man. 2. Damn, outsmarted by logic once again.”

            “1. You sound bias. 2. Listen to your master.”

            “1. Uh, I am, duh. 2. Ew, no, stop.”

            “1. Fine. 2. Ok.”

            “See you soon, Joon.”

            “That rhymes.”

            “I know, I’m amazing.”

 

**Day 82**

            A package labeled “Fragile” was in your mailbox.  You took it out, carefully, and stumbled inside, dropping everything as your dog rushed to greet you.  Once your hands were free, you opened the package and pulled out a small folder.  Inside were pictures.  Tons of them.  You recognized yourself in some of them, but also Jisung’s girlfriend and then his sister and then, holy shit, there was Jungkook with Jisung’s sister, and you sat down, laughing and going through them all again.  A note slipped out from them as you put down one and then the other, and you smiled at Jisung’s note.

            Y/N,

            Thank you!  _Jungkook brought the camera to me several days ago and has offered several times to help me out.  He may be using me as an excuse to meet my sister?  She’s on holiday for a few months, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.  I hope you’ll excuse my lack of English.  Thank you, seriously, for the camera.  I haven’t been this happy in a long time.  I hope you enjoy the pictures I have sent.  I hope to take many more.  I look forward to seeing you soon!_

—Jisung

 

**Day 87**

            Text messages with Tae always went the same.  They would start out so ridiculously slow.  He’d send something in English, and you’d send it back in Korean.  Then you’d respond in English, and he’d send it back in Korean.  It always made you smile, but after a few lines he’d resort to emojis, which you hated, so you would send him a picture or a selfie, and he would always send one back.  You had so many pictures of him, you jokingly threatened him one day to blackmail him if he didn’t send you a selfie every day.  And he hasn’t missed a day yet.

 

**Day 88**

            The beginning of September meant you had been home for a month.  School was already in full swing.  You loved your job, you really did, but for the first time it didn’t feel like enough.  Everyone seemed to speak too much English.  The kids seemed too disrespectful.  Your co-workers seemed extra judgemental.  The gnawing, empty feeling inside your stomach seemed to only grow larger.

            You had had moments like this before.  Where you completely questioned everything you were doing.  When you wondered if teaching was your purpose in life.  But they usually lasted a day, a weekend, maybe a week tops.  Not a month.  You were a good teacher, so getting back into the routine of planning and teaching and grading was easy.  But something was bothering you.  You didn’t feel like you belonged anymore.  And you wondered why adjusting to where you thought you should be was so difficult.  So impossible.

            September also meant the boys were coming to the states soon for their concerts, and you listened to Yoongi work harder and harder on his English, actually insisting that you didn’t speak any Korean to him for an entire week, which resulted in you talking more than you were used to, your ear still tingling every time he hummed in response.

            And you realized, that first day of September, as you looked out among your students, who you loved, you really did, where you really belonged.

 

**Day 90**

            Yoongi becomes easy to read despite never seeing him except over the occasional Facetime or Skype call.  You know he’s having a bad day when he doesn’t call.  Because, while he didn’t promise, he said he would call every day.  And when Yoongi says something, he means it.  So you would always let a day go by in silence.  On the second day you knew he was mad at himself, and some days he would call you apologetically, profusely upset at himself until you forced him to stop and to beg him to let it go.  The non-promise was too stressful of an expectation.  No one should expect their—their…what was he?—to call them every day.  And some days he would steer further away, and you would always send him a text before you went to bed, always saying the same two things.  It’s okay.  Stay.  And the couplet would always be read, and sometimes immediately replied to, or you would wake up in the middle of the night to find a voice mail from him, his voice low and drowsy.  And while you hated those times on the one hand, because he seemed to be aching and anxious and you felt powerless to help, you loved them, too, because the way he speaks makes you miss him even more, and it’s that longing that makes you know, makes you believe how you feel about him.

 

**Day 92**

            Their first concert in the states is a success, of course.  You listened to Yoongi’s calm voice before he went on stage, and you laughed as he called you after, switching to Facetime so you could see all the boys huddled together for a celebratory drink.  They all look the same.  Tired but happy.

 

**Day 93**

            “Yes, Amelia, but how is that an example of bravery?”

            “Oh, well, he was scared to do it, but he did it anyway.  So he overcame that feeling of being afraid by jumping.”

            “Okay, good job,” you smiled, and the class got back to taking turns reading out loud.  One change you had made since coming back from the summer was to always have your phone notifications on.  It didn’t seem highly professional whenever your phone went off during class, but you never wanted to miss a call from Yoongi.  A call all the way from Korea just seemed too important to miss.  So when your phone rang and you noticed it was the school’s front desk calling, you told your students to keep reading while you stepped into the hallway.

            “Miss Y/L/N?  There’s a man here to see you,” the receptionist said.

            “A man?” you said, wondering what she was talking about.

            “Yes, he’s,” she paused, and you heard someone mumble something in the background, “oh, Korean.”

            “Oh,” you said, your eyes wide, looking down the hallway.

            “I know you’re in class, but—”

            “Send him up.  Please,” you said hurridly.  You poked your head into the classroom, reprimanding them for already getting off track, and waited until they got back to reading to look back down the hall.  “Oh,” you said dumbly as you saw who was walking down the hallway, his eyes shifting a big, his walk slightly nervous.  “Yoongi.”  His face relaxed the closer he got to you, but of course when he reached you some twelve-year-old had to shout out,

            “Who’s that?” like an uncultured swine, and you gave Yoongi a “sorry” look, but he just laughed.

            “ _We have lunch in twenty minutes,_ ” you told Yoongi, and he nodded.  “Want to, _want to sit in here until then_?”  He nodded again and looked hesitantly into the room for a moment.

            “ _Have you told them about us_?” he said.

            “ _Us_?” you stuttered, looking up at him and then back to your students, who were definitely staring, waiting for you, not reading, and then back to him.  “ _Have you told me about us_?”  But you didn’t wait for him to answer, because that was clearly a longer conversation, and you entered the room, pointing out a chair in the back for him.

            “Everyone, this is my friend from Korea, Yoongi.  Say hi.”  There was a chorus of greetings, and Yoongi gave a small wave and said hello before slinking to the back to sit down.

            “You speak Korean?” one of your students asked you, and you nodded.  You had already explained the summer to them as best as you could, but only one of your current students knew BTS.  And she was sitting with her mouth open, staring at Yoongi, her entire head twisted around.  You walked by her desk and tapped on it for her to turn around and called on the next student to read.  You made a mental note not to call on her; she wasn’t the strongest reader, and she would die if she messed up in front of genius Min Yoongi, you just knew it.  Focusing on finishing class was actually easy, because 7th graders require constant vigiliance, but you were relieved when the bell rang, and as everyone rushed out to lunch, everyone’s favorite period of the day, you finally turned to Yoongi.

            “You really,” he said, standing up, a grin on his face, “ _you’re really different_.”

            “ _What_?” you said, frowning.

            “In here.  _Really commanding.  Not scary, but you have a pressance._ ”

            “Oh,” you said, as he wrapped his arms around you, “yeah, _this is me._ ”

            “ _I like it,_ ” he said, hugging you tightly.

            “ _I like you,_ ” you breathed into his chest, and he pulled away from you for a moment, his hands on your shoulders.

            “Yeah?” he smiled.

            “Yeah, _I missed you.  I miss you._ ”

            “Yeah?” he smirked, and you reached up to pull his face close to yours, close enough to make him shut up by kissing him.

            “Whoa, Y/N, leave room for Jesus!” some kid yelled, and you pulled away, laughing.

            “ _Come on, lunch,_ ” you told Yoongi, taking his hand.

 

            You were different at work.  You had mentioned it during the summer, that to see one at work, especially working on something they’re passionate about, is to see another side of a person, or to see someone more fully.  You were glad Yoongi got to see you teaching your students, even if it was just for a few minutes.  What surprised you for a moment was how different Yoongi was.  He actually pulled his hand out of your grip when you left the room, and you tried not to be bothered by it.  He still followed close behind you.  But when you entered the lunch room, he almost shrunk.  His eyes were wide while half-closed at the same time, and you realized he was nervous.  While in the summer he had been in his element—his country, his language, his house—he was now in yours, and you understood why he looked so different.  You introduced him to your co-workers, trying to hurry introductions before they put him through a lot of small talk, and pulled him away to a table in the corner as soon as you could so the two of you could eat in peace.

            “ _I know you don’t like surprises,_ ” he said as put down the bag of food he had been holding onto ever since he arrived and started to dish things out.  There were only two Korean restuarants in town, and you marveled at his—or, his manager’s—ability to find it so easily.  “ _But I wanted to come see you._ ”

            “ _Couldn’t wait two days_?” you said, laughing.

            “ _No.  Thought we could fly tomorrow together._ ”

            “You just came down here for one day?  Wow, you are impatient.”  Yoongi only hummed in response.  He didn’t say much as you ate, letting you subtly point out people or explain how work was going, a bright shine in your eyes that he had never seen before.  Tomorrow was a Saturday, so you asked a co-worker to cover for the rest of the day, eager to spend as much time as possible Yoongi.  You couldn’t help but grab his hand as you left school, smiling at anyone who greeted you, and stood in the parking lot while Yoongi waited for his driver.

            “ _I could just go with you,_ ” he muttered, looking at his phone.

            “Ha, _no,_ if I killed Min Yoongi in a car accident, ARMY would kill me,” you muttered back.  He scoffed, but relented, and eventually a black car pulled up.  The driver hopped out to come and open the door for Yoongi, and you realized it was Jisung.

            “Jason!” you practically screamed, running to give your friend a hug.  He hugged you back with a shy smile.  “Yoongi, _you didn’t tell me._ ”  Yoongi only shrugged as he got in the car, but he had a smile on his face.  “Ya.  Okay, Jisung, _I’ll send you my address, or you can follow me._ ”  Jisung nodded, understanding, and you gave Yoongi’s hand one more squeeze before rushing to your own car.

 

            One reason you hated surprises, especially unexpected visitors, was because you couldn’t stand people seeing you a mess or your home a mess.  Your mind panicked as you thought of the dishes in the sink and the socks on your floor next to your unmade bed, and you huffed at yourself.  When you pulled up at your small house, you hurried to open the door and left it open for Yoongi to follow you.  You knew it was a little rude, but you hurriedly put away the dishes and turned around in time to see Yoongi standing awkwardly at the door.

            “ _Come in, come in,_ ” you said, waving him in, and he did, looking around as he did.  “Uh, make yourself at home, _I’ll be right back._ ”  You hurried past him up the stairs, hurrying to make your bed and put away any dirty clothes.  Your bathroom was a little too dirty, too, since you usually cleaned it on the weekends.  You rushed back downstairs to see Yoongi casually looking at your collection of movies, and he straightened up when he heard you.  “Gotta do the dog,” you breathed, practically jogging outside.  Yoongi could hear your dog barking in excitement, and he looked out the window to watch you.  Wiping the sweat off your brow, you came back inside, laughing nervously.  “Anyway, _this is my place._ ”

            “ _I like it,_ ” he said simply, nodding.

            “ _It’s not much,_ ” you said, following his gaze around the rooms.  He just shrugged again.

            “ _Is your room upstairs then_?”

            “Uh, yeah,” you mumbled, heading that way.  He followed you up the stairs and stopped when you reached your room.  He suddenly smiled.

            “ _I like it,_ ” he said, pointing at the posters on your wall of him and the boys.

            “Oh, god,” you wailed, extremely embarrassed.  Part of you wanted to rip them off the wall immediately.

            “Hey, _they make you happy, right?_   _You said something about them making you feel happy._ ”

            “Yeah,” you mumbled, staring lamely at the ground even though you could feel him watching you.

            “ _I make you happy_?” he said softly, and you saw his feet close to you.  You instinctively ran your fingers over your bracelets, and his fingers reached forward to grab yours.

            “Yeah,” you mumbled.  “Totally.  Do I?”

            “Yeah,” he said, his hand raising your chin so you finally looked at him.

            “Okay,” you whispered, “sounds fake, but okay.”  Yoongi smirked once before reaching down to kiss you, and you jumped slightly, surprised.

            “Okay?” he said against your lips, and you answered by pressing your lips to his again.  “Hey, _are you packed for tomorrow_?” he said after a few moments, and you nodded, catching your breath.  “ _Great.  Come stay with me for the night._ ”

            “ _Where are you staying?_ ”

            “ _Some hotel.  Grab what you need, let’s go, come on,_ ” he said, pulling on your arm, and you laughed at how whiney he suddenly sounded.  You were pretty sure you had never packed so quickly.

 

            Yoongi grumbled.  He talked to himself under his breath sometimes when he thought no one was listening or paying attention.  But you couldn’t help but laugh at him as you ate the room service in his hotel room later.  Even the nicest hotel in your town probably paled in comparison to anything Yoongi was used to staying at, and a part of you felt embarrassed again, not good enough.

            “ _What’s wrong_?” you finally said, and his head snapped up.

            “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, sticking another piece of steak in his mouth.  “ _Just arguing with Seijin._ ”  He turned his phone toward you briefly so you could see a text exchange.

            “Oh,” you said, “ _why?  About what_?”

            “You,” Yoongi said casually, putting his fork down to put both thumbs on his phone again.

            “Oh,” you said again, putting your fork down, too and leaning back, your stomach suddenly tossing and turning.  You waited and watched him, not sure what to say, and you tried to assure yourself he would tell you when he was ready.

            “ _Just trying to decide when to make it public, you know?  I respect waiting for J-Hope and Mina, but now Jungkook’s trying to date this girl, Jisung’s sister, did you know about this?  And I won’t let that brat beat me.  Not that,_ ” he clarified, “ _it’s a competition or you’re some prize to be won or anything like that._ ”

            “What,” your mouth opened and closed, “ _make what,_ make what public?”

            “ _Us,_ ” he said casually, throwing a finger back and forth between you and him.

            “Sorry, what about us?”

            “ _Us dating,_ ” Yoongi said, his voice almost sounding annoyed.

            “ _Are we dating_?” You cocked your head and stared at him.

            “Yeah, if you want.  Do you want to?”

            “Yoongi,” you huffed, “can you just.  _What are we?  What are we doing_?”

            “ _I want to date you,_ ” Yoongi said, his voice still casual.

            “We literally live in different countries.”

            “Not forever.”

            “ _What_?” you asked, and Yoongi shrugged.

            “ _Trust me.  Not forever.  So,_ what do you say?”

            “To what?” you said, and now you were just messing with him.  You knew exactly what he was asking you, but the part of your brain that wasn’t computing was resorting to teasing instead.

            “ _Look,_ ” he said, and you realized how tensed he looked, “ _I’m not good at grand gestures.  I bet Tae would have filled this whole room with flowers and balloons and_ —”

            “Yoongi, stop,” you said firmly.

            “ _But I do mean what I say.  So if you want to date me, I’ll work on getting the company to agree._ ”  You stood up slowly, not losing eye contact with Yoongi as you walked to his chair.  He scooted back from the table some, and you picked up his hands, placing one leg and then the other around him until you sat down on his lap.  His arms dropped limply by his side, and you laced your fingers around the back of his neck.

            “Are you, _are you asking me to be your girlfriend_?” you whispered, and Yoongi nodded, his eyes dark and narrow.  “Fuck, Yoongi,” you breathed, playing with the hair at the back of his neck.  Your eyes searched his face, waiting for him to take it back, looking for any indication that he was joking, but his face looked resolved, intense.  You leaned forward slowly, licking your lips and running the bottom one over your teeth a few times before your nose was touching his, and your lips brushed against each other as you whispered,         

            “Touch your girlfriend.”  Yoongi practically growled, and you shrieked when he obeyed, his hands flying to your waist as he closed the distance between your lips.  And he obeyed you all night, giving in every time you told him to touch you, only stopping when you shivered so much you had to curl into him to calm down.

 

**Day 94**

            You knew Yoongi hated airports.  They were the worst part of his job, he had shared ith you once.  Even though your town’s airport was really small, you could tell how tense he was.  He was also bundled up way too much for September, a hat, a jacket, pants, a face mask.  You would have laughed at him if you were some stranger seeing him, but you understood his desire to not be recognized.  But the three of you—Jisung joining behind you both after returning the rented car—moved through security without any hitches, even though the security lady did get a little annoyed when you had to translate something for Jisung, which really put you in a bad mood.

            Yoongi didn’t really hate flying, though, and it was a short enough flight that there wasn’t really time to nap, so the two of you just talked quietly under your breaths or stared out the windows, his hand holding yours the whole time.  You knew it wasn’t really the altitude making you feel dizzy, but you were going to blame that if anyone asked.

            The airport you landed in, however, was much bigger, and you joined Yoongi in putting a face mask on as you left the plane.  You really didn’t think anyone would have found out Yoongi had been traveling alone; one person is easier to hide than seven, but you shouldn’t have been surprised when, the moment you left the airport there were shouts and flashes.  You positively stopped, stunned, and Jisung pushed you and Yoongi forward, his long arm pointing at a car down the sidewalk.  You forgot to breath for those few steps to the car, and you got in as quickly as you could, turning away from the windows as the driver pulled away.  You took a deep breath, finally looking at Yoongi, who was looking away, too, his face drooping.

            “Hey,” you said, reaching across the seats to touch his pinkie finger.  He seemed to jerk out of his thoughts as he turned to look at you.  “You okay?”

            “Yeah.  Shit, are you?”

            “Sure,” you said, smiling at him.

            “Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair.  “ _Had to happen some time._ ”  You tried not to feel helpless as you watched him pull out his phone to text someone, probably Seijin or Namjoon, and looked out the window as everything rushed by too quickly.

 

            Even though he was tired, he was exhausted, Yoongi had rehersal for tomorrow’s show, and insisted you come.

            “ _The boys want to see you,_ ” he explained, so you nodded, following him shyly when you arrived, bowing to staff members and smiling whenever you recognized any one from the summer. 

            You had somehow already forgotten how loud the boys were when they were all in the same room.  The noise hit you, making you stagger back, when Yoongi opened the door to the green room and the boys all saw you.  Soon you were engulfed in hugs.  It was a real mess, but you had a huge grin on your face.  Everyone wanted to talk and catch up, but the concert came first, so you sat in the huge auditorium, watching and listening as the boys rehearsed.  You had still never seen them perform live, apart from the one time they filmed a TV spot in the summer, and you just sat, dumbfounded, afraid you were going to wake up from a dream.  They were meticulous with every detail.  And even though they joked around and messed with each other, they took their work very seriously, and you admired each of them even more somehow.

 

            They had meetings after, but you pulled Yoongi aside before they all disappeared.

            “ _Can I go_?” you said.  He looked around before answering.

            “Yeah, Jisung can take you to the hotel.  But.  Can you.  _Can you stay off of Twitter and all that_?”

            “ _Why_?” you heard yourself say, even though you knew why.  You knew the pictures from earlier must already be everywhere.

            “ _Trust me_?” he said, his face sad, so you nodded.  He smiled then.  “ _And let me in later_?”

            “That sounds scandalous,” you winked, and Yoongi scoffed, giving your fingers a quick squeeze before he hurried away.

 

            It was easier than you expected to not get on the internet when you got to the hotel.  You didn’t need to, anyway.  You had enough negative thoughts in your mind stored up for such times.  You could imagine what everyone had said.  Ugly, fat, worthless, trash, bitch, slut.  The tears were already forming in your eyes when you found _Up_ on TV, and you let yourself sit under the hotel bed’s blankets, crying and feeling sorry for yourself.  You hiccuped when you heard someone knocking on your door, and you sighed, dragging the blankets with you to open the door.

            “Hey— _what,_ ” Yoongi’s smile quickly faded when he saw you, and he pushed inside, closing the door behind you and cupping your face with his hands.  “ _I thought I said to stay off the internet._ ”

            “ _I did, promise,_ ” you pleaded.

            “ _Then why_?”  For an answer, you pointed to your head, and he sighed, bringing you in for a hug.  When he pulled away, he looked down at you once before pushing your marshmellow form back to the bed.  He climbed up first and spread leaned against the backboard, spreading his legs wide before patting the space between them.  You joined him, not wanting him to be worried about you, and leaned your cushioned self back against his chest.  His arms wrapped around you and the blanket and you heard him sigh.

            “ _How was practice_?” you said, and his head nuzzled your back before his head leaned back again.

            “ _Not totally happy with the sound.  It’s always hard to tell.  Everything seems to echo, but when everyone is in there, it won’t, I know, it just still sounds weird.  And Tae might have a cold.  Jimin was too hard on himself.  But tomorrow will be good._ ”  You hummed to let him know you were listening, and he rambled for a bit longer about how he thought the show would go.  His voice started to lower and slow down, though, and you felt his arms loosen around you.  Smiling to yourself, you peeled his arms off of you and turned around to see his eyes closed, his mouth partially opened.

            “Yoongi, _let’s sleep,_ ” you said softly, and he hummed, slowly lowering himself until he was on his side.  You unwrapped yourself from the blanket and drapped it over him as you pulled yourself closer.

 

**Day 95**

            “I liked you.”  You about choked on your drink.  The boys had let you come back to Namjoon’s room for their small get together after their concert.  Your heart and ears were still pounding from all of the noise, and your eyes were still a little blurred from all of the lights and smoke, and you turned to Jin.  He had said it only loud enough for you to hear, the two of you leaning against the couch on the floor, farthest away from everyone else.  You looked at his face once you stopped choking, and he looked tired, but happy, a slight smile on his face.

            “I know.  I knew it,” you finally said, smiling back.  But you pretended to pout.  “ _You don’t like me anymore_?”

            “ _No_ ,” he said, clicking his tongue.

            “I’m glad,” you laughed, and your reaction confused him.

            “ _You’re glad I don’t like you anymore_?”

            “ _I’m glad you told me,_ ” you clarified.

            “ _I’m sorry it too me forever_ ,” he mumbled, finally being honest with you.

            “ _I’m sorry_ , I’m sorry you had to go through it alone,” you sighed, giving his knee a gentle squeeze.  He took another sip of his drink and didn’t look at you.  “ _You didn’t ever tell anyone, did you?_ ”

            “ _No.  What good would it have done?  You didn’t like me._ ”  His voice almost sounded bitter, but he played it off well.

            “Jin…”

            “Why didn’t you like me?” he said, finally looking you.

            “Jin… _Do you really want me to answer that_?”

            “I mean, _nothing you say can hurt me._ ”

            “It’s that,” you said, staring at him.  “ _That’s it.  The pretending.  You always act like everything’s fine._   I just found myself not able to believe you after a certain point.”

            “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

            “ _Don’t apologize.  You did nothing wrong._   _I understand._ I do the same thing sometimes.  And I did nothing wrong by not liking you.  _You know that, right_?”

            “Of course.  _I mean, you missed out_ ,” he said, his over-confidence returning.

             “Oh my god, stop.”

            “ _I mean, I’m sure Yoongi’s great, but me…_ ”

            “ _Stop_ ,” you hissed.  Jin just smiled, and you looked over at Yoongi, watching him laugh at something Jungkook was saying. “I think you need someone not at all involved with your work.  You need to randomly meet some girl at a coffee shop or something, and she needs to have no idea who you are.”

            “Not know me?  _Well, that’s impossible.  Everyone knows who I am._ ”

            “Oh my god,” you groaned.  “And she needs to think everything you say is flirting or adorable otherwise that shit will get old real fast.”

            “Hey…”

            “And you’ll have to learn to be more open and honest and not hide your feelings if you’re worried about someone getting hurt.  _Right_?” you said forcefully, but you shoved him playfully.

            “Ow, _watch it_!”  Jin’s exaggerated reaction made everyone stop temporarily and look over at you two.  You retreated immediately, pushing Jungkook away so you could snuggle next to Yoongi.

            “ _What was that_?” Yoongi said, but his voice held a smile.

            “Just Jin profusing his undying love to me,” you whispered into his ear.

            “ _I mean, who wouldn’t_?” Yoongi mumbled, and you did your best to hide your blushing face into his shoulder.

 

            Jin was right about Yoongi, though.  He was pretty great.  He was beyond great.  He was too…too, still.  The way he looked at you, spoke to you, held you, it was all a little overwhelming.  Some days you swore Yoongi wasn’t human.  He was unlike any man, any person you had ever met.  The way his jaw angled when he leaned in to kiss you, the way his fingers skimmed pleasantly over your skin, the way his eyes narrowed just enough to let you know what he was thinking, the way his smiles changed from sweet to dark in mere seconds.  And his gentleness and patience with you made you so weak.  And you had always loved his voice, loved his performances, but something about seeing him live had made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t think possible.  He looked purely ethereal as you straddled his lap, his expression a mixture of exhaustion, contentment, and pleasure, the dim street lights pushing through the curtains, causing his eyes to shine.

            “ _You were right,_ ” you said, your hands on his face and then pressed against his chest and then roaming under his shirt to feel his stomach.

            “ _About what_?” he said, smirking.  He was barely moving at all, his body exhausted, but his fingers ran up and down your thighs lazily. 

            “ _All I want to do is touch you._ You’re going to have to tell me to stop.”

            “Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, his voice low, his smile doing that thing where it was transforming.

            “God,” you breathed, cupping his face and leaning down to kiss him.  His hands finally moved, one of them grabbing your hip, the other one running up your neck to tickle your ear.  You hummed into his mouth, and he smiled, nipping at your lip.

            “Yoongi,” you said, pulling away to take a breath, and sucking in one sharply as he leaned forward to run his nose up your neck, kissing your chin and then your cheeks and then your nose as you moved your hands.  You put one on his thigh and pressed the other one behind him, exploring under his shirt and then dipping slightly beneath his pants.

            “Ah,” he groaned, his breath hitting your neck.

            “Yoongi,” you said, pulling away just enough to where he knew to lean back, his eyes narrow as he stared at you.  “Yoongi,” you breathed again finding his hands and holding them in yours, interlocking your fingers and then twirling them until you held his wrists.  You guided his hands slowly, shivering as one went under your shirt, lying close to your stomach, and you leaned toward him as you did with the same one, his fingers feeling your skin and moving until they found your hips.  “Yoongi,” you said again, your eyes darting wildly over his face.

            “What do you want?” he said softly, his thumbs caressing your skin.

            “I want.  I want you.” 

            “ _Are you sure_?”

            “Yes.”

            “ _But you’ll stop me, if_.”

            “ _Yes.  But I trust you_.”  You felt like your heart was going to burst the way he looked at you, then, his face so pleased and gentle.  And you thought you really would just melt away when he kept looking at you like that as he checked practically every time he moved, as he whispered praises into your ears, as he covered you in kisses from your head to your toes, as he watched you intensely afterwards, searching for any signs of discomfort, as he pulled you close before you both fell asleep.

            It was just too…too.  There was no way Yoongi was human.  But he was yours, whatever he ways, and you were his, and that’s all that mattered.

 

**Day 365**

            You couldn’t help but smile as the stewardess offered you a hot towel.  What was the point of them?  Were you supposed to wipe your hands with them?  Cover your face in a last attempt to calm yourself down?  There was no way a thin, semi-wet, too hot towel was going to make you calm down.  You could feel your smile stretching across your face, and even though your cheeks already hurt, you were pretty sure you were about to set some record for how long someone could hold a smile.

            “Going on vacation?” the stewardess asked, noting how blissful you looked.

            “Moving, actually.  My boyfriend lives in Korea, and I just got a new job there.  Can you believe it?”  She laughed politely before wishing you well and continuing on.

            Could you believe it?

            It had been the hardest school year you had ever had.  The kids were fine.  The kids were normal, which meant they had their moments.  Nothing major happened.  But you couldn’t adjust to being back home.  And seeing Yoongi in September, and then again in October when you had a week off, and then again in November during Thanksgiving, and then again for New Years, and then again in February, and April had only made things easier.  Easier, because you realized what you wanted to do, which made waiting until summer harder and harder.  Sure, leaving your family and friends behind to move across the world wasn’t as simple as snappig your fingers.  You missed your mom and your dog already, and you had to seriously think about which books to get rid of because people thought you had “too many,” but everything else just felt right.  And applying for a job, because there was no way you were going to move to Korea and just sit around all day, had been odd, considering you hadn’t done it in years, but Mina helped and had contacts, and getting a job teaching English at a local school was easier than you thought it would be.  And the company was more willing than you thought they would be.  You would have your own place, but you and Yoongi had been public since February, so everyone would soon know about your move.  Of course plenty of people had been supportive while the rest mourned the lost of Min Yoongi.  Some fans always made it sound like you were stealing him, or worse, killing him.  But if Yoongi had anything to say about it, which he did, and he would always explain it the same way whenever a fan or interviewer asked him about you.

            “ _Sometimes when you’re playing piano, a key gets stuck, and it stops making sound.  You can still play the piano, obviously, but everytime you come to that key, something’s missing.  Something doesn’t sound or feel right.  When it works again, everything makes sense, sounds right, feels right.  That’s Y/N._ ”

            Of course, for you, you felt like your life had been devoid of music until Yoongi had come along.  And his touches were like drums, his whispers the flutes, his hands in your hair a thousand violins, his words a deep bass, his kisses the lulling sounds of a piano.

 

**And More**

            Nothing was perfect or easy.  You fought occasionally.  Always silently, your voices never raising, a cold air surrounding you.  Often because his infinite, god-like patience did have its limits, and your doubt sometimes became too much.  He didn’t know how else to tell you and show you he loved you, so he couldn’t understand why some days you still couldn’t believe him.  But such moments were temporary, and his calm seemed to help balance you and steady you.  The boys continued to work hard, and unlike some fans were afraid of, weren’t distracted enough by their new relationships to slacken in their love for ARMY.   Jungkook even explained one day, his ears probably burning, that they were experiencing things they never had before, and that was going to let them work even harder and make even more music that more people could relate to around the world.

            He wasn’t wrong, and you loved watching J-Hope and Mina’s relationship grow, how serious and then goofy they could be—yes, seeing Mina act ridiculous was a new experience, but you loved it everytime.  And no one was surprised that they got married first.  You teased Jungkook relentlessly as he pursued Jisung’s sister and loved seeing how different she was Jisung—she didn’t talk excessively, but she talked more than you had ever heard Jisung talk just in the first time you met her.  She was mature for her age, and Jungkook never teased her around any of you, which only made you think, with a slight gagging noise, how much he must tease her when they were alone.  Still, she had a passion for art and encouraged and challenged Jungkook in ways no one else could, so he was better for it.  And Jin kept his own girlfriend secret for one day before bringing her around and insisting the company let him date her immediately.  She had had no idea who he was—which he at first struggled to believe, thinking she was messing with him—but she played cello in an orchestra and had never been one for other styles of music.  But Jin brought her around, and brought her around a lot, and family dinners were soon crowded and louder than ever.  You and Mina and the other two girls often joked about starting your own band and often got together, especially when the boys left for tours that you couldn’t go with them on.

            You still had attacks.  One day at an airport as you were leaving with the boys, a rare mash-up of schedules where you were on vacation when they were just leaving for a concert, the fans got too loud and too close, and even though Yoongi held you closer, you felt suffocated and found yourself once again visiting a bathroom floor to compose yourself.  And one time when Yoongi came over late at night, or early in the morning, and you had had a bad dream, and your body had frozen, so you couldn’t tell him yes or no, but you did start crying, and he was afraid to touch you for days until you finally had to grab his hands and do it for him, insisting you were okay, he was okay, it was okay. 

            The fans were still mean, but some of them were amazing.  The good ones did things like come to fan signs and hand Yoongi letters for you or compiled videos of you and Yoongi together, which you would always watch whenever you missed him too much.  Those fans made it worth it, and you endured the temporary pain of the cruel ones, while never accepting their behavior, so you could be strong for Yoongi and kind to yourself. 

            And you clung to him tighter and tighter as the years went by, and the year the boys finally had to take a hiatus so they could fulfill their military duty, he clung tighter and tighter to you.  His shoulder injury excused him from serving, but without the boys around he floundered and worked excessively until you got pregnant.  And for nine-months you freaked out, your hormones fluctuating so much you felt for sure he would finally leave you, but he was as calm as ever.  For the first two months you were mad, blaming yourself for not being more careful and insisting you were ruining Yoongi’s life, but he would only hold you and sooth you as you ranted and cried.  For the next three months you were so depressed he never let you be alone.  It became slightly annoying, but at the end of the day when he would pull you close, you were only grateful.  The last three months you became restless, so anxious you had an attack almost every month, and Yoongi tried everything to keep you distracted and busy and happy.

            And the moment your baby boy was born, you and Yoongi seemed to have switched places temporarily.  Everything you had been worried about for the past nine months melted away, and everything seemed to finally make sense.  Nothing felt as right as the moment you held him, Yoongi sitting beside you, a completely blissful and awed smile on his face.  So you almost found it humorous when Yoongi became a mess, just a mess of nerves.  He was too afraid to hold his own son for days, he was too nervous to touch you, he stuttered when an interviewer asked him about his growing family.  He got better, of course, and by the time the boys were back he carried your son around proudly, introducing him to all of his uncles.

            And you thought back to a conversation you and Namjoon had had about beginnings and endings.  The boys’ service was ending, and they were about to start a new chapter of their lives with each other.  Sure, there had been more characters added, you thought, as you sat next to Mina and looked at how full the room was, and you thought back to how those fifty-four days had started this all, and you couldn’t even count the days since that summer.  There had been so many days of laughter and crying, or working hard and lying in bed, or talking and touching.  So many full, full days, and there would be many more.  And you couldn’t wait to stay and experience every one of them.

 

 

NOTES:

1\. The Story  
            a. This story, like all my other ideas, came to me one night as I tried to go to sleep. I thought of the idea of a contest and tried to imagine what that would look like. I had read way too many fan fics of some random girl meeting the boys and suddenly falling in love, and while those stories can be great and have their place, I wanted to do things differently.  
                        i. Realism: Overall, I wanted the story to be as realistic as possible (which, I understand, is impossible, and everything in this story is 100% fake, ha). This would include several parts.  
                        ii. Language. Again, most stories just assume everyone’s speaking Korean, or English. I wanted to see what it would be like if the main character didn’t speak Korean. Language is a barrier, and it isn’t easy for most people to pick up.  
                        iii. Falling in love. Again, in most stories it happens so quickly. I wanted this story to be filled with a lot of “normal” stuff. So some days may have been boring for readers, but constant drama or angst is not what I was going for. That gets exhausting, too, honestly. And I wasn’t trying to write a story where a character fell in love with a specific guy (see next point for more); I wanted it to be as natural as possible.

  
iv. Characters. I am a character-driver writer. Not plot driven. This means I come up with my characters and then place them in the world and see what happens. A lot of times the characters start to just take over the story. (This is different from plot driven, where authors need a certain thing to happen, and they make it happen, even if that means a character is suddenly acting out of character with no explanation). So when I started, I made Y/N and came up with her characteristics and personality. Then I thought about which boys would work best with her. Initially, I had considered Namjoon, Tae, and Yoongi as final “candidates.” Jin wasn’t even on my radar until I started writing, and it just made sense to me. I honestly didn’t know Y/N was going to end up with Yoongi until I wrote like, day 40, or something. This just seemed to be natural by that point.  Unrelated, writing this fan fic made me fall in love more with Jin and Jungkook.  I love all the boys of BTS, but I feel like I got to know them better through writing this.

2\. The Lessons  
            a. There has to be a reason behind why people write. I started out with an idea and just wanted to try something new—I’ve never written a fan fiction before. I knew I wanted to incorporate some ideas.  
                        i. Rape (be careful reading, please)  
                                    1. Too many stories, in my opinion, have a character get raped only to have them having sex soon after. In real life, this is often not the case. Rape is a traumatic event, and it changes people. Consent is something I could write about forever. Many people think that if they have sex with someone once, that person will be okay from then on out having sex with that person again. This just isn’t the case.   
                        ii. Touch  
                                    1. One thing I noticed when I became a BTS fan is how touchy the boys were. As I’ve learned more about Korean culture, I’ve learned that that is just a thing. Touch is often associated with intimacy, but intimacy doesn’t have to mean sexual. We should be able to hug our friends and even kiss them (okay, on the cheeks, but you know) without people finding it odd. That’s just me, though, so you can disagree, but I wanted to show the different types of touching and also the different reasons behind touching. Ultimately, I think touching has to do with trust, and it ties back with the idea of consent. You should even ask before you hug someone, I think, because some people really don’t like to be touched.  
                        iii. Love languages  
                                    1. I just want everyone to know about them. I think it is an effective way to learn about yourself, your family, your friends, and your partners. Take a test to see what yours are if you want.  
                        iv. Communication  
                                    1. Communication is a life-long lesson. Did you hear that? I’ll say it again. You will never be done learning how to communicate. Because each person communicates differently. Y/N came into the summer not.good.at.communicating. It frustrated some of you, I know, because you just wanted her to say what she was feeling. But this ties back to realism—I think saying how we feel is extremely hard for some people. There are countless reasons why people don’t communicate well. I hope you could see Y/N getting a little better at it. Some people say it takes two to communicate, but I disagree. It takes one person to start communication. (And even if no one does or says anything, that’s a form of communicating—see how complicated this is?).  
                        v. Fears  
                                    1. So many. I think the fear of not getting hurt or hurting others was huge in this story. Running from problems isn’t the best way to go about things, but communicating and working through them is. It’s easier said than done. I hope people have learned a bit about themselves and others by watching Y/N’s journey. She isn’t a character you should always emulate, ha, but her efforts to get better are commendable.

3\. The Readers  
            a. I never thought I would write this story, so I never thought I would share it on Tumblr or here on AO3. And I never thought anyone would read it, much less stick around for basically 50 days to send comments everyday. I broke over 350 followers on Tumblr. I just want to thank you. I can’t say it enough. Your notes and comments have honestly made me cry a couple of times. Thank you for sharing with me. Thank you for sending me messages late at night saying how my story has helped you. Thank you for being brave enough to read it and strong enough to let me know. Thank you for being kind, so kind that I can’t believe it when you sent me praises and encouragements. I want you to see how amazing you are, how appreciated you are. I want you to believe it. The past month and a half have been way more than I ever deserved. And, this may sound needy, ha, but I am going to miss hearing from all of you. I want you to know, seriously, that I am here if you ever need to talk. Again, thank you for everything.

I learned a lot about myself while writing. I wrote 779 pages in about forty-eight days, which is 16 pages a day. I actually started and finished a book, haha.  I hope you've learned something, too, and leave feeling happy and refreshed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Really.
> 
> Please don't yell at me on [Tumblr](https://54daysormore.tumblr.com/). There are lots of questions I've answered there, plus my Masterlist. Note that all questions include SPOILERS.


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